CHAPTER 7

Gaotu's heat dragged on for four days, four days of fever and agony that left him trembling, drenched in sweat, and half-delirious.

When it finally broke, he felt hollowed out. His body was weak, his skin pale as paper, his lips cracked and dry. Even lifting himself from bed felt like hauling dead weight.

But worse than the exhaustion was the faint, lingering haze of sage drifting from his body. His pheromones. Still leaking, uncontrolled.

During heat, it was natural for an omega in that state to lose control over their pheromones. But after, he should have been able to suppress it. Any other omega would have gained their control the moment the fever ended. But not him. Not with his damaged body. Years of abusing inhibitors had left him with a pheromone disorder , pheromones slipping out no matter how hard he tried to smother them.

So he did what he always did, he reached for the injector. The more potent form, stronger than pills. The needle stung his skin, and he waited. Usually, the effect was instant. Relief. Silence.

But this time... nothing.

Five minutes. Ten. Still the faint, sage scent clung to the air around him.

Panic started to climb his chest. He checked the vial again, not expired. The drug simply wasn't working.

The doctor's words resounded back in his mind. One day, the inhibitors will fail. And when that happens, you'll have no defense.

And now that day has come.

His secret that he fought so hard to keep couldn't be kept anymore.

How was he supposed to live now? How could he walk outside, knowing every step he took would draw unwanted eyes? Right now, he wasn't just Gaotu, he was a fragrant flower, a sweet-scented lure for every predator in range.

The realization was suffocating. He felt trapped in his own skin.

But all hope wasn't gone.

He still had one lifeline left, though it wasn't flawless.

Suppressant patches.

They weren't nearly as strong as injectables and certainly not permanent, he'd have to replace them after every six hours without fail but at least they muted the scent seeping from his gland. Just enough to keep him from being exposed.

Gaotu dug through his drawers with trembling hands until he found the box, unopened, tucked away like an afterthought. Relief flickered across his face as he tore one open and pressed it firmly against the back of his neck.

Seconds passed. Slowly, the air around him cleared. The cloying sage faded to the barest trace, one that only the sharpest nose could catch.

He exhaled shakily, sinking onto the cold floor of his apartment. A small victory but he still had to be alert at all times. Every six hours, like clockwork. One mistake, one forgotten patch, and the truth would spill out into the world.

For now, at least, he could breathe. But his heart was still heavy.

He wasn't safe. Not anymore.

------

After a week of absence, Gaotu finally returned to campus. But this time, he didn't walk with his usual ease. His fingers clutched the straps of his backpack so tightly his knuckles whitened, his gaze fixed.

On most days, no one paid him much attention. Unless Shen Wenlang was by his side, Gaotu was little more than background to everyone else's chatter. But today, the weight pressing down on him made every step feel like walking through a minefield. His heart hammered with a single fear that someone might catch the faint trace of his scent leaking past the suppressant patch.

So he planned carefully. Waking before dawn, he made sure to arrive long before the hallways filled. The silence of the early morning campus was his only comfort, a shield from curious eyes and stray noses.

When he reached his classroom, the door creaked open into an empty room. Relief swept over him. He slipped inside quickly, closing the door behind him, and headed straight for the back. The last row, the last seat.

For now, the classroom was empty, and Gaotu could breathe.

One by one, students began to trickle in, their chatter filling the once quiet room. A few curious glances flicked his way, lingering just long enough to wonder why someone would sit all the way in the back, but no one approached.

Gaotu kept his head low, eyes fixed on the book spread open across his desk.

By the time the room had nearly filled, the air buzzed with overlapping conversations, gossip, laughter. At the very back, Gaotu propped his chin on his arm and let his gaze drift lazily over the class. The noise didn't touch him.

Maybe it was a good thing, he thought, to always be the outsider. Invisible. No one asking questions. No one noticing too much.

Ten minutes until the lecture began, and still, that person hadn't arrived. Not that he was waiting. Of course not. He told himself that more than once. But it had been too long since he'd last seen him, and the thought lodged stubbornly in his chest.

He shook his head sharply, willing it away. Now was not the time, especially not with the situation at hand.

His fingers brushed the edge of the page, ready to turn it, when the shift in the room caught him. The steady buzz faltered, dipped into a hush, then swelled again.

Gaotu looked up and froze.

At the doorway, Shen Wenlang stood. And for a heartbeat, their eyes met.

Gaotu's pulse stumbled. He dropped his gaze in an instant, forcing his attention back down to the lines of text that suddenly blurred under his eye.

But the sound of footsteps grew closer. Closer still. Until the scrape of the chair beside him cut through the classroom noise.

Gaotu felt his palms start to sweat.

Shen Wenlang sat down without a word, the faint scent of cologne and something sharper trailing after him. He leaned back in the chair like it was his rightful place, one arm slung across the desk.

Gaotu swallowed hard, keeping his eyes on the book, though he hadn't turned the page. He could feel Shen Wenlang's gaze, heavy, unrelenting. Watching. Measuring.

"You look like hell," Shen Wenlang said at last, voice low, almost casual. But Gaotu caught the edge in it, the undercurrent of something else.

"I'm fine," Gaotu muttered, too quickly. His voice scraped in his throat.

Shen Wenlang hummed, a short, sharp sound of disbelief. He didn't press further, but he didn't look away either.

The professor walked in then, and the classroom stirred into order. But at the back, the air between them remained taut.

Ever so often, Gaotu caught movement from the corner of his eye: Shen Wenlang's gaze sliding toward him, lingering, then returning to the front as if nothing had happened. It gnawed at him.

When the lecture finally ended, chairs scraped back and the room burst into chatter as students filed out. Gaotu packed his things quickly, keeping his head down. If he moved fast enough, maybe he could slip away.

But the moment he stood, Shen Wenlang's voice cut through the noise.

"Gaotu."

He turned slightly, avoiding eye contact. "What?"

Shen Wenlang rose from his seat slowly, deliberately. He towered close, his body blocking the aisle.

"Are you really okay?" Shen Wenlang's tone was deceptively flat, but his eyes narrowed.

Gaotu's hand tightened on the strap of his bag. His pulse raced. He tried for steady, tried for dismissive. "I wasn't feeling well but now I'm fine."

Shen Wenlang studied him, searching, too sharp to be convinced. His eyes dropped, just for a second, to Gaotu's neck, the spot that had been red raw days ago, the place where the suppressant patch now sat hidden beneath fabric.

Gaotu felt the weight of that gaze and forced himself to shift. "Move," he said quietly, almost a plea.

Shen Wenlang didn't. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn't let him leave at all. Then, with a tilt of his head and a faint curl of his lip, he stepped aside.

"Fine. Go." His voice was cool, but his eyes followed Gaotu all the way to the door.

The hallway outside was loud with footsteps and chatter, students spilling between classes. But Gaotu froze the moment he saw two large men in dark suits stationed against the wall, standing too stiff, too watchful. Unmistakably out of place among the students, but commanding enough that no one dared question it.

They didn't say anything, didn't move. But their eyes followed Gaotu as he passed, sharp and assessing.

His stomach twisted. He didn't need to guess who they belonged to.

Behind him, Shen Wenlang emerged from the classroom, his steps unhurried, his face unreadable. The guards straightened immediately at his presence, bowing their heads slightly as though acknowledging him.

The air shifted. Conversations faltered nearby, students stealing glances before quickly looking away.

Shen Wenlang's eyes lingered on Gaotu's retreating figure longer than he should have. His mind wouldn't stop circling on the faint scent he caught earlier, the patch on his neck.

A suppressant patch.

He had never seen him wear one before, not even during that heat when he discovered the truth. Shen Wenlang had already pieced it together back then: Gaotu relied on inhibitors to suppress his scent. But now... why would he risk it, when he seemed to not want anyone to know it.

Unless something had really happened.

The thought made something twist in his chest, sharp and unpleasant. That was when the idea struck him.

He had resources at his disposal, he could put them into use. If he used them carefully, subtly, he could gather information without his father catching wind of it.

He realized just how little he truly knew about Gaotu. His name. His address. His sister who was sick. And now his Omega status. That was it. And so, Shen Wenlang decided he would use his father's shadow men for himself, he had to find a way to make them stay quiet and not open their mouths to his father.