Mihail pulled Chaika into his arms and breathed in deeply, moving between his hair and the nape of his neck. Unlike the crowded castle, this small cabin held only Mihail and Chaika. Thanks to that, he could feel Chaika’s unique scent in its entirety.
Only the bitter, acrid scent of medicinal herbs stimulated his nose, but within that smell, Chaika’s own body scent was unmistakably blended in. Otherwise, there was no way a smell that was merely bitter could feel this addictive and sensual.
He found himself wondering what kind of scent Chaika would give off if he ever stopped using those herbs. Even with that bitter aroma completely covering it, it was already this intoxicating—so if only Chaika’s natural scent remained, just how sensual would it be? At that point, he might truly lose his mind and spend every moment clinging to the creature alone.
“There’s nothing that’s too much for you, Chaika. Because I’m going to give you everything. What you need, what you want, what you wish to have, what you want to do, what you want to enjoy… I’ll give you all of it.”
Chaika smiled faintly. It was a strange smile—sad and happy at the same time.
“I… Lord Mihail. I like things just the way they are now. I don’t need anything more.”
“That’s only because you’ve never had the chance to enjoy truly good things.”
A creature who had filled his stomach with nothing more than a few biscuits, slept curled up on a cold windowsill with drafts seeping in, lived through all four seasons in clothes that had grown too small over the years, done menial labor until his fingers blistered, and endured being whipped—someone like that might well be satisfied with the present alone. But Mihail was not.
“I just… Lord Mihail.”
Chaika took Mihail’s hand and pressed it to his own cheek. Then he leaned his face into Mihail’s palm, as if entrusting himself entirely to that hand, as if Mihail’s touch made him feel safe. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
“Just being treated so well by you like this is enough for me. You’re already so good.”
“Only to you.”
Mihail said it flatly. Being good to Chaika and being a good person were entirely different matters. Mihail was not a good person, nor did he intend to become one.
“…I know that. Lord Mihail is originally… um… um….”
Chaika glanced away, his eyes shifting to the side.
“Crude-tempered? Violent? Impulsive? Possessive? Self-willed?”
Each time Mihail tossed out a word, Chaika’s eyes slid left and right before he finally let out a soft “hehe,” breaking into a foolish-looking smile.
“Yes. I’m that kind of person. But I’m different with you.”
“Yes. You’re so, so good to me. Kind, gentle, attentive, and….”
He stopped there for a moment, then removed Mihail’s hand from his cheek. In a small, almost retching voice, he said,
“That’s why I’m scared.”
“Scared?”
“…….”
Chaika looked away. Mihail grasped his chin and lifted it, forcing him to meet his gaze.
“What are you afraid of?”
“…….”
“What are you afraid of, Chaika?”
Chaika lowered his eyes, hiding the deep emotion within them. After hesitating briefly, he finally spoke.
“I’m afraid that… one day, you’ll treat me the same way you treat other people.”
To think he’d been worrying about something like that with such a tiny head. Mihail smiled faintly.
“That won’t happen. Want me to promise you?”
At Mihail’s suggestion, Chaika smiled silently and shook his head. Then he took the hand that had been holding his chin and pressed it back to his face.
“I just… I want everything to stay the way it is now. Just like this, without anything changing. You being who you are now, Lord Mihail, and me being who I am now… I wish it could stay that way.”
There was sorrow in Chaika’s eyes.
Ten years.
Mihail recalled that span of time again. Perhaps Chaika was thinking about his own death.
“I’ll make it so.”
Mihail spoke as he made a silent vow. The moment they returned, he would search the entire country for physicians skilled in treating betas, gather hundreds if he had to, and make him live longer. He would make him live.
As Mihail slowly lowered his head, Chaika gently closed his eyes. Their lips touched softly. Chaika gave him a light, ticklish kiss, like a bird pecking with its beak. It was cute. Lovely. And painfully dear. He wanted him. He wanted to make him wholly his own. He wanted to leave marks all over his body that declared ownership—so that no one else would dare desire him, or even dream of him. A fierce, violent possessiveness bubbled and seethed inside him.
“Chaika.”
Whispering his name, Mihail carefully laid him down on the fur. Then he kissed him again. The small body that accepted the kiss without resistance was endearing and precious. Kissing him softly and deeply, Mihail removed Chaika’s thick outer garments. Layer by layer, until a white shirt was revealed. Beneath the thin fabric, a small chest rose and fell slowly. It was nothing more than a human breathing, yet the sight of it felt miraculous.
“Lord Mihail….”
When Mihail slipped his hand beneath the shirt, Chaika called out, sounding troubled. The hand under the fabric traced over a flat, slender stomach and moved up to cup his chest. It was a flat, lean chest, but to Mihail, it felt more sensual than any other body.
He wanted to see this skin directly, touch it, suck on it. Driven by the surging desire, Mihail tore the thin shirt straight open down the middle. The white upper body was revealed. Mihail took the one place that stood firm and red against the pale skin—Chaika’s nipple—into his mouth. No fruit could ever taste this sweet.
“Lord Mihail… Lord Mihail!”
Calling his name over and over, Chaika pushed at Mihail’s shoulders. With his strength, it was utterly futile.
“Please, stop, Lord Mihail!!”
That final cry was tinged with faint tears. Mihail stopped what he was doing and lifted his upper body. Chaika’s eyes were reddened at the corners.
“…I… I can’t.”
Murmuring this, Chaika gathered the torn shirt to cover himself. As if cold water had been dumped over the passion that had been boiling inside him, Mihail’s expression darkened. Seeing Mihail sit down beside him without a word, Chaika apologized with a guilty look.
“I’m sorry.”
The words “it’s okay” wouldn’t come, and Mihail let out a faint sigh. Chaika clearly seemed to have feelings for him, yet he avoided him so desperately—Mihail couldn’t understand it at all.
“Is it because of Nile?”
He asked the only thing he could think of. Chaika shook his head silently.
“Then why are you refusing me?”
“I… because I can’t. Because I don’t have the right.”
“I decide who has the right.”
“I know.”
Chaika nodded. Mihail clicked his tongue in frustration. Just what was it that he knew…?
Alphas—especially Dominant Alphas—had extremely strong basic urges and little hesitation in satisfying them. Mihail was no exception. Yet looking at Chaika, curled up and clutching his torn shirt with both hands as if it were a lifeline, Mihail couldn’t bring himself to touch him again. He didn’t simply want to have sex with him. He just wanted to make this creature his—completely his.
Letting out a soft sigh to dispel the obscene thoughts filling his head, Mihail removed his outerwear and took off his shoes. He brought over the bedding prepared in the corner. Seeing what Mihail was doing, Chaika fumbled as he rose from his spot. Mihail cleared the fur from in front of the stove, laid out the bedding, then spread the fur back over it. It couldn’t compare to the soft bed in the castle, but for a small cabin in the forest, it made a decent sleeping place.
Mihail lifted Chaika effortlessly and laid him down on it, then removed his shoes. Lying down beside him, he pulled Chaika into his arms. After stiffening briefly, Chaika soon followed Mihail’s lead, using his arm as a pillow and burrowing into his chest.
“I’m sorry, Lord Mihail.”
Chaika apologized. Mihail couldn’t tell what he was apologizing for. Without a word, Mihail covered Chaika’s eyes with his hand. He felt the eyelashes flutter shut beneath his palm. When he removed his hand, Chaika lay there with his eyes closed, drifting toward sleep.
The small body falling asleep in his arms gave Mihail a sense of satisfaction and fullness that he couldn’t put into words. It was something to be felt, not explained. He had no way of explaining how he’d come to be like this. All he knew was that this creature was his. That he had to be his. That was all.
Ten years.
Mihail recalled it again.
Every time he looked at Chaika, that span of time inevitably surfaced. No matter how finely he tried to divide those ten years in his mind, he was forced to realize over and over again that it was nowhere near enough to spend with Chaika.
“But think about it, Mihail. If the creature were an omega, he wouldn’t live just ten or fifteen years—he’d live over a hundred more. Don’t you want that?”
“I do. I want it. I want the woman who bore my child to have been an omega, not a beta. Then I wouldn’t have had to watch her grow old and send her far away, or imagine my child growing old and dying.”
Ten years, or fifteen.
A hundred years, or a hundred and fifty.
The difference was staggering.
Back when he was still young and immature, the beta woman Ilya had fallen deeply in love with. Ilya lived with her as if they were married, and after several years, she became pregnant. Ilya left her just a few months before the child was born. Only then did he realize it—the difference in the flow of time between himself and the woman he loved, and their child.
After leaving them, Ilya never mentioned the woman again. The time he spoke of her once more came literally decades later.
“I do. I want it. I want the woman who bore my child to have been an omega, not a beta. Then I wouldn’t have had to watch her grow old and send her far away, or imagine my child growing old and dying.”
Yes. Ilya could think that way. But Mihail was different. To Mihail, omegas were utterly unbearable beings. That was the difference.
Perhaps riding had tired him out. Chaika was already asleep, breathing softly and evenly. Mihail gently stroked Chaika’s cheek.
