CHAPTER 1

That particular day, Shen Wenlang was absent, leaving Gaotu all alone. He had no friends and rarely spoke to anyone besides Shen Wenlang. This only fueled others' dislike for him. Many resented Gaotu, especially those who admired Shen Wenlang, since Gaotu often acted as a barrier, rejecting their advances on Shen Wenlang's behalf.‎‎Shen Wenlang, being an S-class alpha at the very top of the pyramid, naturally attracted countless admirers. Yet, for reasons known only to himself, he never entertained anyone. The only person he spoke to was Gaotu, a beta. Rumor had it that the cold and aloof alpha despised omegas. And indeed, whenever an omega approached, he would wrinkle his nose, curse under his breath, and call their scent "disgusting." That was why he stayed close to Gaotu who, being a beta, carried no scent at all.‎‎"Did you hear? Someone said they saw Beta and Shen Wenlang having dinner together yesterday..." a girl's voice whispered in the bathroom. The others around her gasped in shock.‎‎"Impossible! Shen Wenlang never eats outside," one girl hissed, her voice full of disbelief.‎‎"But I swear it's true! My cousin saw them with her own eyes. They were sitting across from each other in that small noodle shop near the east gate," the first girl insisted, lowering her voice.‎‎‎The bathroom filled with whispers and muffled laughter.‎‎"Is he into that beta of all people?"‎"What does Gaotu even have? He's plain, quiet, and useless. Why would Shen Wenlang choose him?"‎‎The sharp words echoed against the tiled walls, like poisoned arrows aimed straight at Gaotu's back even though he wasn't there to hear them. By the time the gossip spread through the school, the story had twisted into something far worse. Some said Gaotu had bewitched Shen Wenlang. Others claimed he was using tricks to cling to the powerful alpha.‎‎When Gaotu walked into the class , the room went unnaturally silent. Whispers rippled behind his back as curious eyes, hostile and jealous followed his every move. ‎‎‎Gaotu, having caught bits and pieces of the rumors, simply ignored the stares and whispers surrounding him. He lowered his gaze and made his way to his seat without hesitation. He had always been the type to keep things to himself, never airing his thoughts aloud unless absolutely necessary. With his head hung low, he gave off the impression of someone small and unobtrusive, almost blending into the background.‎‎But the silence was heavy-too heavy. Every hushed giggle, every sharp glance that darted his way carried malice. They wanted a reaction from him, some proof that the gossip was true. Yet Gaotu remained still, expressionless, his face unreadable.‎‎Inwardly, though, his chest tightened. He wasn't afraid of being hated, nor was he surprised. It was just... exhausting. He had gotten used to being invisible, and now, ironically, it was his connection with Shen Wenlang that pulled him into the spotlight.‎‎The teacher entered, and the murmurs quieted down, though the stifling atmosphere didn't lift. Gaotu rested his chin lightly on his hand, eyes downcast, as if the entire world no longer concerned him.‎‎‎This was the longest day Gaotu had ever endured. The moment the last bell rang, he stuffed his things into his bag and hurried out, eager to escape the suffocating classroom. Only when he stepped out of the school gates did he finally exhale, a long sigh of relief slipping past his lips. Away from everyone's watchful eyes, he could breathe again.‎‎By the time he reached his small studio apartment, his shoulders had loosened a little. But just as he was about to unlock the door, his phone buzzed. A reminder lit up the screen: Shift at the convenience store - 6:00 PM.‎‎Gaotu blinked, then gave a weary laugh. There was no time to rest. He quickly pushed open the door, changed into his work uniform, and left again without so much as a bite to eat.‎‎The convenience store wasn't far, thankfully. He preferred walking. It saved money, and besides, the cool evening air helped clear his mind. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. Working part-time wasn't a choice for him, it was a necessity.‎‎His shift went smoothly, just like every other evening until the door chime jingled and Shen Wenlang stepped inside.‎‎Gaotu froze. His eyes widened as he took in the sight. bruises bloomed across his skin, and his lip was split, still glistening with fresh blood.‎‎"Wh-what happened to you?" Gaotu blurted out before he could stop himself.‎‎Shen Wenlang didn't answer right away. Instead, he let out a tired sigh and made his way down the aisle toward the cold drinks. His steps were steady, but the faint stiffness in his movements didn't escape Gaotu's notice.‎‎Moments later, he returned to the counter with two bottles of drinks and a packet of suppressant patches in hand. He placed them down casually, as if nothing were out of the ordinary.‎‎"Even if I told you, you wouldn't be able to do anything," Shen Wenlang said flatly.‎‎Gaotu's lips pressed together. He didn't argue. He simply scanned the items quietly, the beeping of the register filling the silence between them. After bagging them, he slid them across the counter, his eyes lingering on Shen Wenlang's injuries but his words caught in his throat.‎‎After receiving the bag, Shen Wenlang pulled out one of the drinks and held it out to Gaotu.‎‎Gaotu blinked, confused, until Shen Wenlang's voice cut in, faintly exasperated.‎"It baffles me how you can clearly hear your stomach complaining, yet still choose to ignore it. How old are you, really? Do you need someone to tell you to take care of yourself?"‎‎"I..." Gaotu's words tangled in his throat. He lowered his gaze, took the drink hesitantly, and whispered, "Thank you."‎‎Shen Wenlang only shook his head, as if tired of saying more, and turned to leave. With his hand on the door, he spoke again.‎‎"I won't come to school for a couple of days."‎‎Then the bell above the door chimed softly as he stepped out into the night.‎‎Gaotu stood frozen, staring at the empty doorway long after Shen Wenlang had gone. Only when silence settled back into the store did he glance down at the bottle in his hand. The cool condensation against his palm felt strangely heavy.

___

The next day, Gaotu dragged himself to school as usual. But by midday, a dull ache was spreading through his body, and a feverish heat began to crawl under his skin. His hands trembled slightly as he raised to ask the professor for leave. He couldn't waste a second, he needed to get home.

He knew exactly what was about to happen.

His heat cycles had been growing more and more irregular, an ominous sign. The continuous use of inhibitors was taking its toll on his body. The doctor's warning still echoed in his memory: If you keep this up, the damage may become irreversible.

And yet, what choice did he have?

He could never let anyone know he was an omega. If his father ever found out... Gaotu's stomach twisted at the thought. He would be as good as dead. Ever since he was six years old, when his mother knelt before him and whispered with trembling urgency, "From now on, you must pretend to be a beta. Promise me," his life had been bound by that lie.

The inhibitors had helped him maintain that mask. They concealed his scent, allowing him to blend in as the "scentless" beta he pretended to be. But there was one thing the pills could never fully suppress: the raw, uncontrollable pheromones that spilled out during his heat.

And that was why he had to get home before it hit.

Every step back to his apartment felt heavier, his breathing more ragged. He clutched his bag to his chest as though it might steady him, his only thought repeating like a prayer: Just a little longer

By the time Gaotu stumbled through the door of his tiny studio, his body was already betraying him. His clothes clung uncomfortably to his damp skin, heat radiating from every pore. He dropped his bag by the door and leaned against the wall, gasping for breath.

The inhibitors weren't working. Not anymore. His cycle had broken through them with brutal force.

He fumbled through the cabinet for a spare suppressant patch, his hands trembling so violently he nearly dropped the box. Slapping one onto his skin, he squeezed his eyes shut, silently begging it to work. But the fire raging inside him only grew stronger. His body screamed for relief, the pheromones seeping uncontrollably into the room.

Gaotu collapsed onto the futon, curling into himself, biting his arm to keep from making a sound. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating him with the weight of his own secret.

But in the haze of fever and heat, his control slipped further with every passing minute. His room filled with the faint, sweet scent he had worked his whole life to bury.

And outside, unnoticed by him, footsteps slowed in the hallway pausing just before his door.

---

On the other side, Shen Wenlang was enduring his own battle. His leave from school had been granted because of his upcoming rut.

For most S-class alphas, rut was not something one could or should face alone. The primal drive to claim, to seek out an omega, became overwhelming, stripping away the thin veneer of control. Most sought out partners, temporary or otherwise, to survive it without tearing themselves apart.

But Shen Wenlang was different. He always endured it in silence.

Suppressants, patches, anything that could numb the fire coursing through his blood he used them all. His room reeked faintly of antiseptic and bitter medicine, a desperate attempt to mask the raw scent of an S-class alpha in rut. The air was thick, stifling, and yet he forced himself to bear it.

His body trembled with the effort of restraint, every muscle taut, as if he were a predator chained in his own cage. His instincts clawed at him, whispering that he needed an omega, that release was the only way out.

But Shen Wenlang hated omegas. The very thought of their scent made his lip curl. So he fought again and again until his throat was raw from muffled growls and his chest ached from denying his nature.

While still lost in the haze of delirium, a single blurred picture began to form in his mind. No matter how he tossed and turned, clawing helplessly at the sheets, all his fraying nerves seemed to reach for that one figure.

Shen Wenlang let out a bitter laugh, low and ragged. How absurd was this? An alpha in rut, driven to the edge by instincts he despised yet the image filling his mind wasn't of some faceless omega.

It was Gaotu.

The thought alone should have been impossible. Gaotu was a beta, scentless, ordinary, someone he should have no reason to fixate on. And yet the picture of him was so vivid it burned behind his eyelids. Every time he tried to suppress it, the urge only grew stronger, more insistent.

It was as though his body and mind refused to calm until he could see him until Gaotu was near.

Shen Wenlang pressed the heel of his hand against his temple, frustrated. "Damn it..." he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse.

The next second, Shen Wenlang was on his feet. His mind was fixed, he had to go to Gaotu's place. He told himself ; Gaotu should still be at school. Just stepping into his territory, breathing in the faint trace of him, would be enough to soothe the restless storm inside.

But as soon as he turned the corner and approached Gaotu's door, he stopped dead in his tracks.

A scent hit him like a blow.

Sweet. Heavy. Overwhelming.

An omega in heat.

Shen Wenlang's pupils contracted sharply. His body stiffened, instincts roaring to life before his mind could catch up. But the scent wasn't drifting from some stranger in the building-it was spilling from Gaotu's apartment.

For an instant, his thoughts scattered. Why? How? Gaotu was a beta-wasn't he? There was no time to unravel the impossibility, because his instincts surged, primal and demanding, urging him to break down the door and claim the source of that intoxicating scent.

Shen Wenlang's jaw clenched. With sheer will, he seized his own wrist and sank his teeth into it, hard enough to draw blood. The sharp pain shot through him, scattering the fog of instinct and diverting his nerves to the pain in his wrist . His breath came out ragged, his chest heaving. He would not and could not lose control.

He staggered back a step, forcing himself to turn away, but then..

"Ah~"

A faint groan slipped through the thin walls. That voice. Familiar. Pained.

Gaotu.

The scent thickened, wrapping around him, clinging like chains. Shen Wenlang's entire body trembled with the urge to answer the call.

"No..." he rasped, his voice breaking. If he lingered a second longer, he would break the door. He would do something unforgivable.

With blood dripping down his wrist, Shen Wenlang tore himself away and rushed down the stairs.