The Alpha’s eyes locked onto him, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air, every muscle wound tight. His voice came out hoarse, almost feral.
“They threw an Omega like you into this place—how could you not be found? Still, I didn’t think the instructors would stoop to this just to eliminate us. If I lose, fine… Just let me smell you once, or—”
Chi Zhan froze at the first part of that sentence. In that instant of distraction, the Alpha suddenly lunged—like a rabid beast gone mad—slamming Chi Zhan hard onto the ground. But in the very next second, it was as if someone had hit pause on a recording. The Alpha stiffened mid-motion, his expression twisted in frustration—then abruptly collapsed in a heap.
A tranquilizer dart protruded from his body.
Chi Zhan couldn’t begin to make sense of what that Alpha had just said. But the bigger problem was the exhaustion flooding his body after the extended fight—he had no strength left.
This… wasn’t normal.
But there was no time to think it through. The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. Someone else was coming.
Chi Zhan’s vision dimmed and blurred. He couldn’t make out who it was. He gritted his teeth, forcing his body to move, his hand closing around the particle sword. With the last of his strength, he swung it blindly in the direction of the approaching figure.
As expected, he missed.
A calm voice, standing three paces away, said gently, “Chi Zhan, it’s me. Don’t be scared.”
The voice was steady, soothing—as if trying to untangle the tension knotted in Chi Zhan’s nerves. It was… familiar.
Cen Chi.
Cen Chi took a slow step toward him.
“Don’t come any closer!” Chi Zhan barked.
“You look like you need help. Do you still have the disinfectant patch I gave you?”
He held out both hands to show he wasn’t a threat—even though he’d just tranquilized an Alpha.
Chi Zhan didn’t know what connection existed between that and Cen Chi’s sudden arrival. He gripped the sword handle tightly. Even if it was Cen Chi, he wasn’t letting his guard down. On the assessment field, there were no friends.
He didn’t want to lose. He couldn’t lose.
Forcing his unsteady body up, he staggered on shaky legs, nearly collapsing again. He held himself upright through sheer force of will.
It felt like something had knocked his internal clock off its rhythm, like an unseen force had upended his body’s order. The sensation was unfamiliar—but unmistakable.
His illness… hadn’t healed?
“The disinfectant patch,” Cen Chi reminded him.
Chi Zhan didn’t move.
A flush bloomed across his cheeks. His pupils were slightly unfocused. Whether he heard Cen Chi’s words was unclear—but he still clung to his sword, stubbornly holding his ground.
“I just want to check on your condition. I won’t do anything else,” Cen Chi said softly, his voice utterly unthreatening. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
When Chi Zhan still didn’t respond, Cen Chi slowly stepped forward, crossing into his space. The moment he did, Chi Zhan reacted like a startled cat, lifting his arm to strike.
Clang— the particle sword fell from his grip.
Cen Chi grabbed his wrist and halted the feeble attack. As soon as he touched him, he felt Chi Zhan’s unnaturally high fever. His expression darkened instantly.
It was worse than he’d expected.
Chi Zhan’s body was covered in chaotic Alpha pheromones—he must’ve encountered someone earlier. The Omega pheromones that had spread through the test field were coming from him.
If they didn’t get a blocking patch on him soon, the consequences would be unthinkable.
It had started out as a precaution, but now, that patch was suddenly the most critical thing they had.
Chi Zhan felt like he was burning from the inside out. His heart was pounding wildly, as if scalding spring water had soaked through every part of him.
Was he… running a fever?
In Chi Zhan’s memory, fever was a terrifying thing. When little kids got fevers, doctors took them away—and they never came back.
Luckily, he’d always been healthy. Rarely sick.
Cen Chi rummaged through his pocket and found two name tags. He glanced at them but didn’t think much of it, returning them where he’d found them.
His pale, jade-like neck, no longer covered by his collar, held a faint pink flush. And the closer Cen Chi got, the more his Alpha instincts wrestled with his reason.
That scent—so sweet and delicate—wafted into his nose like a rare, expensive perfume. But no perfume could compare to this.
Cen Chi had met plenty of Omegas before, even ones in heat. But none had ever moved him. Maybe because his own Alpha pheromones were unusually strong. No Omega had ever been compatible enough.
But now, Cen Chi finally understood what it felt like to smell an Omega who matched him.
Even his breathing was no longer his own.
The urge to mark was encoded deep into an Alpha’s bones. If he marked Chi Zhan now, no one—not even the Crown Prince—could take him away.
Imperial law was absolute: once marked, an Omega could never be marked again. Anyone who tried would be sentenced to life imprisonment.
And right now, the Crown Prince’s grip on the throne was already shaky. He wouldn’t let anything threaten it.
But if he went through with it… Chi Zhan would never forgive him.
Cen Chi realized what he was thinking and sighed inwardly.
They hadn’t even known each other for long—so why did he feel this overwhelming urge… to give everything for him?
He clamped down on the impulse with every ounce of strength. Just as he tore open the blocking patch and reached out to apply it—
He froze.
A blade pressed cold and sharp against the side of his neck.
“If you want to live,” a glacial voice whispered by his ear, “let go of him.”
***
Cen Chi’s movements paused slightly.
Then he spoke calmly, “The ones who really wanted to hurt him are already lying on the ground.”
His tone remained unhurried, almost serene—as though the icy blade at his neck didn’t exist. But a faint crease appeared between his brows, betraying his tension.
