Mihail’s hand, which had been about to snatch the kettle as well and smash it, flinched to a halt. Seizing that opening, Nile moved to Chaika’s bedside and perched himself on the edge of the bed.
“You fed poison to a child born an Omega from the moment he was an infant just to make him pass as a Beta—is that what you call protecting your younger brother?”
“Then what else was I supposed to do? He betrayed the Alpha who owned him and bore another Beta’s child. If that child was born an Omega, what kind of fate do you think awaited him? He’d be sold to a filthy brothel as an example, or, if he were lucky, sold off to some Alpha. Just like me!”
The voice that had been steadily rising turned into something close to a shriek by the end. Nile’s once-beautiful face was twisted beyond recognition with hatred and loathing.
“Why? Do you really think it would’ve been a better life for this child to live as an Omega—something you find so revolting and nauseating—rather than live briefly and die young as a weak Beta? Weren’t Omegas who get passed from one Alpha to another, bearing this Alpha’s child and then that Alpha’s child, the very thing you said made you sick?!”
Nile’s scream was as poisonous as the scent of Bellagie itself—steeped in venom and malice. Within the always obedient and quiet Nile, such fury, hatred, and loathing had been pooling like poison all along.
“So just leave him alone. Don’t make him live like I did. Even if his body is weak and he won’t live long, at least let him live and die like this—without being sold around like livestock the way our mother was. If you have even the slightest bit of feeling for this child, then please… let him live like this.”
The voice saturated with venom and malice gradually subsided, thinning into something like a faint sob. Nile tilted the spout of the kettle toward Chaika’s lips. The juice of the poisonous herb—said to erode the body and ultimately lead to death—dripped drop by drop into Chaika’s mouth as he lay deeply asleep. Mihail watched it happen right in front of his eyes, yet he couldn’t stop it.
With infinite patience, Nile let the juice trickle little by little into Chaika’s mouth, since he couldn’t swallow on his own. After a long while, once Chaika had taken in a considerable amount, Nile set the kettle down on the table.
“…It would be best if you left.”
Nile spoke in an exhausted voice. Mihail didn’t listen. And Nile, too, didn’t try to force him out. Instead, holding the cloth prepared at the bedside, he quietly watched Chaika.
Was it just his imagination? Chaika’s pale complexion was gradually taking on a bluish tinge. Something was wrong. The moment Mihail could no longer restrain himself and reached out, Chaika’s body convulsed violently—and then he began to vomit bright red blood.
Ugh. Urk. Ngh. Ngh.
Each time he retched blood, a suppressed moan filled with pain spilled out with it. His body, seizing in short, violent spasms, twisted in agony. His already small, frail body looked as though it might stop breathing entirely at any moment.
“Leave him. Just leave him.”
Nile repeated the words as he wiped away the blood with the cloth he’d prepared, turning Chaika’s head to the side so the blood wouldn’t block his airway and scraping the pooled blood from his mouth. Mihail stared at Chaika, feeling more powerless than at any other moment in his life. Poison that shortened his lifespan was being forced into him, and even as Chaika suffered, coughing up blood and having his life carved away by that poison, Mihail could do nothing.
Chaika’s convulsions subsided, and the vomiting stopped. Nile replaced the cloth beneath his head with a fresh one and wiped the blood-smeared corners of his mouth with a damp cloth.
“…Is it over now?”
“The heat cycle is almost over. Now he just needs to rest properly until he wakes up.”
Nile said calmly, then added in a hoarse voice,
“……. If he wakes up.”
“He might not?”
“I’ve heard that risk is always there.”
Hearing Nile speak of Chaika’s death in such a calm tone filled Mihail with an overwhelming urge to snap his neck. Not just snap it—tear him from limb to limb and throw what was left out the window. No, he wanted to shred him to pieces.
“Step back.”
Mihail said quietly. As if his work was done, Nile obediently retreated from the bed. That act saved his life.
Mihail stared at Chaika’s pale face for a moment, then slowly reached out. His hand stopped abruptly, hovering just short of touching him. Omega. That single word alone had turned this small creature into something entirely different. Mihail wondered whether he still wanted him. But nothing came to mind.
All he could see was the pale face, lips stained a vivid red with traces of blood, and a brow tightly furrowed in pain. The faint, fragile breaths—so weak they could only be heard if one listened closely—seemed as though they might stop at any moment. Chaika’s appearance and his feeble breathing filled Mihail’s mind completely. He couldn’t make any judgment. But one thing was absolutely clear: he had to take Chaika out of this place. This wasn’t Mihail’s territory. Chaika belonged in Mihail’s territory.
Mihail wrapped Chaika securely in the bedsheet and carefully lifted him into his arms. He moved with extreme caution, as though even the slightest jolt might stop that fragile breathing altogether.
“What do you plan to do with that child?”
Nile asked quietly from where he’d stepped back.
“That’s none of your concern. It’d be wise for you not to appear before me again after today. I might snap that white neck of yours the moment I see you.”
Nile didn’t speak again. He simply watched silently as Mihail left the room, Chaika in his arms.
Chaika remained lying in Mihail’s bed, sleeping for another half day straight. Or rather, it was no different from being in a coma brought on by the poisonous herb. Mihail stood rooted at the bedside, listening to the faint, barely sustained breathing. His mind was completely empty—he couldn’t think of anything. All that existed was the pale face before his eyes and the fragile breaths reaching his ears. That was all.
Night fell. The butler entered, added firewood to the hearth, and lit the candles. He prepared tea and water on the bedside table so they could be drunk at any time. Knowing his master well, the butler finished his tasks like a shadow and quietly headed for the door.
“A physician…”
Just as the butler opened the door to leave, Mihail spoke softly.
“Seek out and bring the physician most knowledgeable about Omegas. Have the herbalist remain in the castle as well.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The butler replied quietly and withdrew from the room.
Still standing with his gaze fixed on Chaika, Mihail suddenly let out a long breath. He was utterly exhausted—dozens of times more exhausted than after chasing an Alpha wolf through snow-covered mountains for over ten days.
Mihail slowly reached his hand toward Chaika’s face. Hesitating just short of contact, his fingertips finally came to rest on Chaika’s forehead. It was cold. Mihail slid his fingers downward, slowly tracing from Chaika’s forehead. His fingers passed over the brow creased with pain, down the bridge of his nose, over the sharp nose tip, then doubled back to the lips dyed red with blood, to the chin, and from the tip of the chin to the nape of the neck.
“…You were an Omega….”
Mihail murmured as he wrapped his hand around the slender neck. Beneath his palm, he could feel the pulse of blood vessels throbbing—so weak compared to his own.
The bitter scent emanating from Chaika, who had drunk the poisonous herb’s juice several times over the past two days, was far stronger than usual. To suppress not only the heat cycle but even warp the pheromones themselves—just how potent must that poison be? And Chaika, who swallowed without hesitation a poisonous herb that damaged his body and organs and gnawed away at his life each time he took it—just how poisonous was he himself? How could such a small, timid creature be so vicious? A thing so fragile it could be killed with the slightest pressure around its neck—how dare it deceive him so perfectly all this time? How dare it betray him?
…Betrayal.
Only then did that single word surface in Mihail’s mind.
No matter what this creature had done, no matter what lies it had told, Mihail could’ve laughed it off as something trivial. Even if he’d been a spy sent by the Emperor he despised so much, it would’ve been fine. Or a spy from another territory, or someone trying to seduce him to change his fate—it would’ve all been acceptable. But one thing—just one thing—was unforgivable. He… Chaika… must not be an Omega. This was the most vicious betrayal Mihail could ever suffer.
Mihail tightened his grip around Chaika’s neck. With the heat cycle over, all that emanated from him now was the harsh scent of Bellagie. There wasn’t even a trace of Omega pheromones to be found. The creature lying before him was, at least outwardly, a perfect Beta. The Chaika he had known. His.
But the moment Chaika opened his eyes, everything would change. What had been his would turn into a traitor, and without the poisonous herb, he would exude the foul pheromones of an Omega. What had once been lovable would transform into something repulsive. Mihail didn’t want that.
Should I just kill him like this?
Before the thought even fully formed, his hand had already begun tightening around the slender neck on its own. Slowly, gradually, strength flowed into the fingers constricting his throat. Wouldn’t it be better to kill him now, like this, before this small creature could transform into something loathsome?
“In just a few days… everything will go back to normal… I can live like this. Just like now.”
“I just… wish everything could stay like it is now. That nothing would change in this state—Lord Mihail would be Lord Mihail as you are now, and I’d be who I am now… I wish it could stay that way.”
Chaika’s desperate voice brushed against Mihail’s ears. But it was a futile wish—at least, it would’ve been possible only if Mihail had never learned Chaika’s true nature.
Just one strong squeeze would snap this fragile neck without resistance. A little more pressure, and his breathing and blood flow would be cut off, killing him quietly. Yet Mihail’s hand couldn’t muster that much strength. He held on with the intent to kill, but couldn’t bring himself to apply the force.
Mihail ground his teeth together. Then, defying his own hesitation, he forced strength into the disobedient hand. The faint gasps of breath dwindled, and the pulse he’d felt beneath his palm came to a stop. The pale complexion gradually took on a bluish hue. In ten seconds or so, this creature would die like this—still his.
