Chapter Text
Where’s Gao Tu?
Shen Wenlang sighed for what felt like the hundredth time as he dialed his secretary’s number again for the nth time. As he walked briskly down the hotel corridor, his eyes stayed glued to his phone—and that’s when he collided hard with another body.
“Look where you’re going!” Wenlang snapped, glaring up at the other Alpha.
“You’re the one walking while glued to your screen,” Sheng Shaoyou shot back, voice sharp with irritation.
The air immediately thickened with tension. Both S class Alphas released aggressive pheromones—irises and orange blossoms clashing in a pungent, invisible war of dominance. The scent spread fast, forcing unfortunate bystanders to cough and stumble away from the sudden hormonal crossfire.
A hotel employee, a Beta, hurried over with visible urgency. “Sirs, please refrain from releasing such aggressive pheromones,” he said firmly. “We already had a case of an Omega going into heat on this floor. We cannot afford another incident. Also, releasing dominating pheromones in public is strictly prohibited under the ABO Protection Act. Desist immediately, or we will be forced to report both of you to the authorities.”
Both Alphas immediately reined in their scents, though the tension remained.
An Omega in heat? Sheng Shaoyou stiffened. Was it Hua Yong?
He turned sharply toward the employee. “My mate—he was here? He was about to go into heat soon…I just took my eyes off him and he wasn’t right next to me… Can you show me what room he’s in? Please.”
The Beta, Mr. Wei, nodded hesitantly and began leading him towards the starting rooms. Specifically Room 2. Shaoyou followed, quick and determined.
Meanwhile, Shen Wenlang, watching the exchange with rising irritation, turned and stalked in the opposite direction. He passed Rooms 7 and 8, stopping just before Room 9. Something made him hesitate—an odd chill, perhaps. He frowned and dialed Gao Tu’s number once more.
That was when a hand yanked him forcefully into the dark room.
“Who the hell—?!” he shouted, struggling against the grip. “Who are you? How dare you pull me inside?”
Reacting on instinct, Wenlang swung his arm and punched the stranger squarely in the jaw. Iris-scented pheromones flooded the air like a brewing storm, sharp and dominant.
A low, sensual voice replied, calm and completely unimpressed: “Huh. Cute.”
The word sent a chill up Wenlang’s spine.
He sniffed the air cautiously. There was something familiar—floral and spicy, teasing the edges of his memory.
Where have I smelled this before…?
Before he could piece it together, cold metal clicked around his wrists. His arms were cuffed. He was shoved back onto the bed.
A new scent filled the air—potent and laced with danger. Luring ghost orchid pheromones. The effect was immediate. His Alpha instincts faltered.
Ghost orchids? Wait—Hua Yong?
The Enigma.
Of course. No wonder his S-class Alpha pheromones weren’t having any effect.
Oh God, what has this night turned into?
He came here for the food—and maybe good dessert.
Not to become the dessert for an Enigma!
Ghost orchids. Spicy, floral, intoxicating. It’s him.
Hua Yong.
The realization hit like a body blow.
He tried again to surge upward, but the cuffs were too well-secured. His body felt heavy, disoriented—not just from the restraints, but from the thick haze of pheromones curling around him, pressing in. His instincts, fine-tuned and Alpha-sharp, were turning against him.
“This is a violation,” he snarled, even as his breath hitched. “You’re crossing a line. I’m not your mate. Not Sheng Shaoyou. It’s me Wenlang! Hua Yong, you do not want me!”
“Am I crossing a line?” came the soft, taunting reply from the dark. “Or are you just afraid of what happens when you’re not the one in control? Wenlang or Shaoyou doesn’t matter, you just smell good”
Wenlang’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to pull this crap and dominate me.”
“Why not?,” Hua Yong said smoothly. “I’m just... reminding you. What it feels like to submit.”
A hand brushed Wenlang’s cheek—gentle, almost tender. It made him flinch more than a slap would have. The scent was everywhere now. Every breath Wenlang took was saturated with ghost orchid and something deeper underneath. Something darker. This was not Hua Yong, this was his Enigma, unfiltered.
He hated the way his body was responding.
Hated the way his thighs clenched, how his pulse spiked not just with anger—but with need.
“Stop releasing the luring pheromones,” he ground out, voice breaking slightly.
“I’m not doing anything,” Hua Yong Enigma said with a smirk. “Maybe it’s your body responding to mine.”
“Bullshit.”
A low laugh. “You can lie with your mouth, Shen Wenlang, but your scent doesn’t lie. And neither does your heartbeat.”
Wenlang’s jaw locked. He could feel it—his carefully constructed Alpha composure cracking, piece by piece. The scent, the heat rising beneath his skin, the cruel softness in Hua Yong’s voice—it was working.
He hated how much it was working. How the oppressive pheromones were affecting him.
“This doesn’t mean you’ve won,” he whispered.
“No,” Hua Yong said. “But it does mean you’ve started to surrender.”
Silence stretched for a beat too long.
And Wenlang didn’t deny it.
Wenlang didn’t deny it.
The silence hung between them, heavy as stone, broken only by the sound of his own uneven breathing. His wrists ached in the cuffs. Not from pain—yet—but from the tension of restraint. The unnatural stillness. His body, tuned for action, was being held like a weapon sheathed and forgotten.
Hua Yong moved like a shadow. Calm, unhurried, deadly.
"You know who I am now," he said quietly. "No more guessing games. No more pretending you're in control."
“Hua Yong,” Wenlang spat the name like venom. “You’re a lunatic.”
“Mm,” Hua Yong said, unaffected. “Not a lunatic, just someone who knows what he wants.”
He stepped closer. The scent of ghost orchids grew stronger, thick and dizzying. Wenlang’s own pheromones had faded to a barely-there storm — smothered, suppressed. Outranked.
“Let me go.”
“No.”
Wenlang snarled, yanking at the cuffs. “You can’t just—”
“I can,” Hua Yong said simply. “And I will.”
Something cold brushed against Wenlang’s neck.
He stiffened.
Metal.
He felt it settle into place before he fully understood what it was. His breath caught.
Click.
The collar closed around his throat with soft finality. Not tight, not painful. Just there. Present. Possessive.
Wenlang froze.
“You—” his voice cracked, furious, disbelieving. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Teaching,” Hua Yong murmured. “You’ve never been taught how to surrender, Wenlang. And I’m the only one who can show you.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think this will hold me.”
“I don’t need it to hold you,” Hua Yong said, brushing a hand under his jaw. “I just need you to feel it.”
The contact lingered—his touch gentle, controlled, like a handler taming a wild animal. Not cruel. Not violent.
Worse.
Wenlang wanted to bite, to spit, to scream. But he said nothing.
Because the collar was still there.
And Hua Yong had already turned away.
“I won’t touch you ahead,” he said, voice low. “Not till you’re begging for it.”
With that the Enigma pushed the collared and cuffed Alpha on the bed. He sat next to the prone figure and moved his hands through the thick mane.
Wenlang lay motionless, fury in his veins and the scent of ghost orchids still in his lungs. The collar pressed against his throat with every breath, reminding him who had the upper hand.
And for the first time in years—
Shen Wenlang wasn’t sure if here long he’d be able to endure.
The room filled with the scent of spicy ghost orchids, luring the prey to the predator.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” Wenlang’s voice was hoarse.
“I gave you space. Time.” He tilted his head. “You needed both.”
The scent hit him again. Stronger this time. Purposeful.
Not just ghost orchids—something else now. Luring pheromones even more potent.
Wenlang’s pupils dilated before he could stop them. His breath caught. His body began to heat in places he didn’t want to notice.
“You—” He swallowed hard. “You’re releasing—”
“I told you,” Hua Yong said, stepping closer. “This is a lesson in surrender.”
“Stop—releasing those pheromones—” Wenlang gasped, one hand bracing the headboard as if it could hold him together.
“Why?” Hua Yong’s tone was maddeningly calm. “You’re responding beautifully.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Wenlang could feel it—his Alpha instincts thrashing against something they couldn’t defeat. His pride screamed, but his body leaned. Not forward, not quite. But towards.
He pressed his lips shut tightly. Hua Yong said nothing. Just stood still. Let the scent do its work.
Seconds stretched.
Wenlang’s hands trembled.
His mouth opened—and to his own horror, he heard himself whisper:
“Please.”
Hua Yong didn’t move.
Just let the word hang in the air.
“Please what?” he asked gently, like he didn’t already know.
Wenlang looked up at him, eyes wild and angry and helpless all at once.
“Take it back,” he said. “Pull it back. I can’t—think.”
“Good.”
The word hit him like a stroke of heat.
Hua Yong stepped in then, finally, and Wenlang flinched—not from fear, but from how badly he wanted to reach for something. Anything. Even just his scent.
A hand slid around the back of his neck—warm, commanding.
“You’re not broken yet,” Hua Yong said, lips close to his ear. “But you’re softening.”
He leaned in, nose brushing along Wenlang’s jaw, the base of his throat.
Then he stopped. Inhaled deeply.
“You're ready.”
Wenlang stiffened.
“No,” he whispered. But it didn’t land like resistance. It sounded like denial. Desperate. Unsure.
Hua Yong’s fingers traced the edge of the collar. “You’re already caught, Alpha. This is just the next step.”
And though he didn’t touch him again—
didn’t bite, didn’t mark—
Wenlang could feel it coming.
And this time,
he didn’t tell him to stop.
Helplessly, his lips just end up saying, “Please… be gentle...”
He should have run.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
Not when the Enigma touched his throat again—roughly. Not when fingers traced the collar he hadn’t yet taken off. Not when his lips brushed Wenlang’s temple, then lower.
And not when he whispered, “Say yes.”
Wenlang hesitated.
Every part of him wanted to resist. But his body—traitorous, overrun with heat and scent and the crackling demand of instincts long ignored—wanted.
And in the end, what came out was barely a whisper.
“...yes.”
The shift was immediate.
Hua Yong didn’t pounce. He didn’t need to. Instead, he moved over him like the tide: slow, consuming, inevitable. The press of his body was warm, firm, anchoring, dominating. The weight of him felt like surrender made real.
Wenlang tipped his head back.
Exposed the column of his throat.
And Hua Yong leaned in and breathed him in—slowly, deeply—before pressing his face against the scent gland just below Wenlang’s ear.
Then—
Contact.
A warm mouth. The heat of breath. A flicker of teeth.
Not a full bite—yet.
Just a warning. A promise.
Wenlang gasped.
He could feel it—something shifting beneath his skin, instinct clicking into place like a puzzle piece finally slotted home. His heartbeat thundered. His muscles coiled.
And then—
The bite landed barely missing his gland.
Not savage. Not cruel. But absolute.
It wasn't just a mark. It was a claim.
And Wenlang let it happen.
His body arched into it—whether in pain or relief, even he couldn’t say. The world blurred into sensation: scent, breath, heat. Somewhere between resistance and need, he gave in.
The Enigma turned him on his stomach and deftly removed his pants and briefs.
“Lift your hips, I need to use them.”
The Alpha shivered. Never had someone touched him before and never in his wildest dreams had thought his first time would be like this. Beneath an ally, an enigma, his strength curbed by collar, cuffs and pheromones.
He slowly lifted his hips, praying that this wound would end quickly.
Hua Yong slowly caressed the Alpha’s upper thigh and with nimble fingers unclipped the shirt garters. Swiftly breaking the pins from the elastic he pressed them each on the alpha’s pebbled nipples and pushed him down again. Pressing a kiss on the reddened skin of the Alpha’s entrance, the Enigma piercingly pushed two fingers in the moist puckered hole. He roughly scissored them and deliberately released soothing pheromones.
As this was an Alpha’s body, there was no slick there was no smooth passage to the treasure. Hua Yong spit in the puckered hole and inserted one more finger after the other, till his entire fist fit in the alpha’s firm asshole. Pushing it in, he firmly removed his fist. Watching the moist widened hole gaping as if begging for something to fill it again, the Enigma pushed his thick firm cock right in the puckered entrance with a growl.
Beneath him, the Alpha grunted and wriggled.
Smack, swiftly the predator’s right hand landed on his right butt cheek, then his left and then smack right on his bruised reddened gaping asshole. With his left hand he pulled his prey by the collar and kissed him bruising lay. “Do not move little wolf, else I’ll forget to be gentle.”
Whimpering, the alpha pressed his face down the pillow, praying to anyone who was listening to save him from this nightmare. Meanwhile, the Enigma pummeled the Alpha’s asshole with his thick cock at a punishing pace.
Fucking him relentlessly, the enigma spilled his seed right in the asshole and knotted the alpha’s butt.
Once the knot swelled down, Hua Yong pulled the Alpha by his collar and started fucking him again and again and again.
The collar was gone and the cuffs were also gone. Hua Yong was lying asleep beside him.
Wenlang lost counts of how many times his body had been used. The sheets heavy with the scent of ghost orchids and irises—the lingering proof of what Hua Yong had done to him.
His muscles ached, but his mind burned with a storm of confusion and something else—shame, embarrassment… hurt. How did this happen to him? Will Hua Yong even remember what he did? He had been fucked by someone stronger than him, all he could do was beg and writhe like a fucking disgusting pathetic omega.
His eyes fell to the floor. His clothes were scattered in disarray—rumpled pants, messy jacket, boots tossed carelessly. Slowly, he bent down, gathering each piece, the rough fabric grounding him back to reality.
Dressed now, Wenlang moved toward the door, every step weighted but determined. He has to escape.
As he pushed the door open and stepped into the hallway, the familiar scent of the hotel corridor greeted him—but beneath it was something unexpected.
“President Shen?”
He froze.
Gao Tu stood there, tie loosened, shirt untucked, jacket slung over one shoulder like a battle flag. His expression faltered the moment their eyes met.
Wenlang’s nostrils flared.
Orange blossoms. Fresh sage. Omega musk. Heat-laced and fresh.
“You—” Wenlang’s voice cracked. “Is that…?”
Gao Tu swallowed, his gaze dropping briefly. “I can explain.”
“No,” Wenlang said, voice hollow. “I don’t think you can.”
Their eyes locked. Two people, President and secretary, Alpha and omega, both scent-marked, both reeling.
Wenlang turned without another word and walked away.
Because right now, he wasn’t ready to ask.
And Gao Tu wasn’t ready to answer.
They had both gone into that hotel untouched.
And neither of them came out the same.