* * *
When the grueling five-day rut finally ended, the place where Joowon slowly regained his blurred consciousness was the same hotel room where only the remnants of heat and pleasure now lingered.
The sun was already high in the sky beyond the window.
The curtains hung precariously, half-torn.
The floor was littered with shards of a broken wine bottle, and clothing — his or the Omega’s, he couldn’t tell — lay scattered everywhere.
The air reeked of sweat, semen, and the heavy residue of Omega pheromones — so thick it made his head ache.
His muscles throbbed like he’d gone through a marathon.
But strangely, his body felt… light.
It had been a long time since he’d felt this sort of strange clarity.
For eight years, he had suppressed every rut with suppressants, which always left him with splitting headaches and extreme fatigue.
But this time was different.
It felt like every toxin in his body had been purged.
The past five days were a blur — like a foggy dream or broken flashes of vivid memory.
He couldn’t clearly recall how he ended up here, or even how the rut had started.
He ran a hand roughly through his messy hair, trying to recall.
Last night… or was it a few nights ago?
He couldn’t tell — his sense of time had broken.
He had come to the hotel to make final adjustments for the JX Group’s critical presentation.
That much he remembered.
To shake off fatigue, he’d poured himself a single glass of wine.
The wine came with a card that read “You’ve got this” — clearly from Yoonwoo.
Yes, he remembered up to that point.
He remembered the warmth that briefly bloomed in his heart at Yoonwoo’s thoughtfulness.
But then, the moment he smiled and took a sip of wine, a sudden surge of heat enveloped his entire body like molten lava.
And then—he was plunged into a chaos from which he could not wake.
And then… came the omega pheromones—sweet and thick to the point of being suffocating, unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
That scent awakened every cell in his body and set off his Alpha instincts like wildfire.
He was utterly swept away by it, his mind blank with need, devouring the omega in front of him like a man gone mad.
“I want to ravage the omega before me,” “I want to shove my cock deep inside him, thrust, and come.”
That singular desire eclipsed all reason.
The omega’s pale skin, those slender yet firm arms that wrapped around him, the cries that burst out, tangled in pain and pleasure.
It was a kind of raw, complete ecstasy he had never felt with Yoonwoo—no, not even imagined.
Every nerve in his body was laser-focused on this omega.
His Alpha instincts, repressed for eight years, were breaking free, euphorically liberated.
At some point, he vaguely heard someone sobbing his name, weak and distant, and he had a fleeting memory of shoving someone—or something—away with rough force.
But his mind, consumed by pleasure, failed to register it properly.
All he knew was that his instincts wanted the omega—and he followed that desire to the end.
Only now did Joowon begin to understand, even if dimly.
Why the world insisted that Alphas must be with Omegas.
The quiet comfort and mental rapport he had with a Beta like Yoonwoo couldn’t compare to this—this overwhelming, biological synchronization.
The intense physical satisfaction, the raw sense of freedom.
For the first time, he realized what he had been missing—or rather, what he had been trying so hard to ignore all these years.
Truthfully, it would be a lie to say taking suppressants for eight years hadn’t been hard.
Of course, he loved Yoonwoo and didn’t want to cause him anxiety, so he endured.
But the side effects and the constant stress of suppressing his instincts had taken a toll.
Some days, the drugs made him nauseous all day; other days, he battled a crushing, inexplicable fatigue.
There were times when, even with suppressants, a light rut would hit him out of nowhere.
He had to keep it from Yoonwoo, book a hotel near the office, and ride it out alone in agony.
In those moments, he felt a deep loneliness—and an acute sense of his own inadequacy as an Alpha.
He hated himself for it.
Joowon turned to look at the unfamiliar omega sleeping soundly beside him.
A youthful, dangerously alluring face, long lashes casting shadows on pale cheeks.
The omega’s body, clearly exhausted from several days of intense sex, bore red marks all over—branding evidence of their time together.
There was no doubt.
This omega had been with him through the chaos.
Joowon let out a long, heavy sigh.
This young omega must’ve had a hard time too, caught in the storm of Joowon’s uncontrollable rut.
Despite being strangers, he felt a strange tenderness toward the other and a strong sense of responsibility.
“He’s a victim… caught up in my rut. I… need to take responsibility.”
That thought, filled with guilt, clashed with the lingering pleasure still echoing through his body.
His skin prickled again at the memory.
He forced himself to shake it off, shaking his head.
“…Shit.”
The curse slipped from his mouth as he got out of bed.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem like he’d knotted the omega last night—not that he could be sure.
Still, better safe than sorry.
He scrambled to gather his clothes, thrown across the room, and dressed hurriedly.
He had no intention of waking the omega.
But just disappearing without a word didn’t sit right with him either.
After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled a business card from his wallet and quietly placed it on the nightstand.
Then, choosing his words carefully, he scribbled a short note on the hotel memo pad.
[I’m sorry. If you’re okay… please contact me.]
He wasn’t sure himself whether this was guilt or just a desperate hope to see that intense omega again.
He brushed a few soft strands of hair away from the omega’s cheek with a tender hand.
The softness of that touch made it hard to walk away—but eventually, he pulled back and stepped out of the room with a conflicted heart.
On his way out, he stopped by the pharmacy on the hotel’s ground floor and left emergency contraceptives with the front desk.
It was the least he could do—a basic courtesy, and a safeguard for himself.
As the taxi took him home, his thoughts spiraled.
More than anything, the omega he had left behind occupied his mind.
The name and face were blurry, but the overwhelming pleasure of those five days still burned vividly in his memory.
Was the omega awake now?
Had he seen the note?
Would he call?
Was he hurt?
Such lingering thoughts filled his head.
His body even flushed at the memory of their time together.
Then suddenly, Yoonwoo’s face surfaced in his mind.
Guilt and remorse crashed over him like a tidal wave.
The betrayal of eight years of trust, the inevitable pain Yoonwoo would feel if he ever found out…
But Joowon forced those thoughts away.
He simply didn’t have the strength to face them right now.
Instead, what demanded his immediate attention was the JX Group project presentation—the one he had completely missed due to the rut.
The company’s future was on the line.
He had to get to the office and find a way to fix this.
His phone was dead, and once it powered on, it would probably explode with missed calls and messages.
There was no way he could tell Yoonwoo the truth.
Not now.
That conversation would have to wait until after the company crisis was handled.
He didn’t want to show how shaken he was—and perhaps, deep down, he was already leaning away from the stability he shared with Yoonwoo and toward the new possibility the omega represented.
For now, he had to hide everything and buy time.
He decided to keep the encounter with the omega completely secret.
He would just say he had been locked up in a hotel for five days due to an unexpected rut—and apologize for not being able to contact anyone.
‘Yes,’ he reassured himself, ‘Yoonwoo is kind and understanding. He’ll forgive me this time, too.’
With that uneasy comfort, he guessed Yoonwoo had already left for work.
It was well past office hours.
Joowon figured he’d quickly stop home to change and head to the office right away.
With that flimsy self-forgiveness in place, Joowon stood in front of the officetel’s door.
He took a deep breath, trying to push away unwanted thoughts and focus on work—what needed to be salvaged.
He entered the passcode and opened the door.
Click.
As expected, silence greeted him.
The air inside was cold and still—like time had frozen.
The chill crept down his spine, but he brushed it off and stepped inside.
He needed to shower, change, and get out fast.
But just as he stepped into the living room—he froze.
Instead of the empty space he expected, a scene of quiet devastation unfolded before him.
A heavy silence filled the room, thick with the bitter scent of despair.
And there, collapsed on the living room floor, motionless and disheveled—was Yoonwoo.
His eyes, empty and devoid of life, stared back at Joowon.
And Joowon stood there, frozen in place.
* * *
