20

In the first few decades of Mr. A’s life, there had never been a day as dire as today—being arrested, handcuffed, and locked in a solitary cell, quietly waiting for the effects of the tranquilizer to wear off.

The force established for alphas was unlike any public institution in the secular world. Money and power were useless here. Facing a high-ranking alpha wouldn’t earn you any mercy. When dealing with an out-of-control alpha, one small misstep could lead to injuries, ranging from strained muscles to broken bones, or even bedridden for months. The personnel of the institution would not slack off when it came to their own safety.

The sound of high heels tapping on the ground was low and pleasing to the ear. A tall, stunningly beautiful female alpha approached the cell door, extending a long, slender hand with pale skin and deep red nails. She pinched a glowing door card between her two fingers and gently swiped it across the door. “Here to take him.”

The door slid open silently.

She walked in, giving Mr. A a faint smile. “Well, this is a surprise. I never thought I’d be the one to bail you out.”

Mr. A, with bloodied knuckles and a weary expression, lifted his head. His handsome face bore a bruise, but deep within his gaze, there was a flame that even the sedatives couldn’t extinguish.

“I never thought so either,” he replied, “Cousin.”

The female alpha raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Seems like you found him?”

“Yes,” Mr. A pushed himself up, the handcuffs automatically falling to the ground with a clink. “Someone I never expected…”

“How did you not notice before?”

“He used a pheromone blocker—from the day he first saw me.”

The female alpha whistled. “Now that’s a dramatic turn of events.”

At the same time, omega  couldn’t help but want to shout—this is really a dramatic turn of events!

He didn’t even know what he had done. He simply hadn’t used the pheromone blocker and then invited Mr. A over to try a dessert. Yet they hadn’t even tasted it before Mr. A, who was usually so composed, lost control. He slammed the heavy metal door so hard that it dented. After ordering him to make a call, Mr. A told him to go upstairs and take a shower. After being taken away, he was brought to the facility for an interrogation. The beta officer in charge asked him numerous questions, but he couldn’t answer a single one. “Are you aware that you are a perfect match for this alpha?” What the hell—how would he know?

They even checked whether the source of the pheromone blocker he had purchased was legal and drew blood from him to collect a pheromone sample, though he had no idea what they planned to do with it. His head was spinning, and he couldn’t stomach the high-sugar, high-fat food they provided for omegas. Exhausted and hungry, he sat for hours on the cold chair. When he finally heard a staff member politely inform him, “The test results aren’t ready yet. For your safety, you should stay here overnight,” for some reason, he became suddenly angry. He stood up and said, “I want to go home now.”

The staff froze for a moment, and the employees passing by also stopped in their tracks, staring at him in surprise, as if he had said something utterly unreasonable. The omega shouted furiously, “I said I want to go home now! Even if I need to sleep, I’d rather sleep in my own bed at home and eat something that’s not so sickly sweet, because I couldn’t stomach any of the food you provided today!”

With the staff’s assistance, he quickly handled the paperwork to leave. On the way back, he contacted the renovation company and paid them to immediately install a new door exactly like the old one. He also ordered a low-sugar vegetable and fruit salad, then got out of the car, used the new door card from the renovation company to swipe open his front door, went inside, ate the salad, took a hot shower, and collapsed into bed. From 9:30 PM until 5 AM, he slept soundly, waking up on his own, his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.

It wasn’t until this moment that his overloaded brain processed all the information, allowing him to fully recall everything that had happened today and what it all meant.

— To Mr. A, he was the perfect match for his pheromones.

Suddenly, a woman’s voice echoed in his ears.

“… Their family is particularly sensitive to the scent of omega pheromones. If it’s not the one and only destined mate, the impact on them would be much less…”

When he heard those words, did he ever consider that he might be the “destined omega”? No. And the reason life sucks is because it always manages to throw unexpected possibilities at you, arranging them into a chaotic mess and dumping it all over your head, only to tell you, “This is a surprise.”

At that moment, his neural interface suddenly beeped. He weakly raised it to check, and to his surprise, it was Mr. A.

The message he received was brief, just four words.

[I’m sorry.]