Winston cut her off without hesitation, as if to say there was no need for further whining about a decision that had already been made. Madam Campbell wasn’t particularly pleased with her son’s overbearing attitude, but she chose to be understanding. After all, Winston was the one who had to carry out the will, and he was also the one making the greatest sacrifice in this situation.
Still, she couldn’t completely shake off her lingering regrets.
“Winston.”
Madam Campbell called her son’s name to get his attention. When Winston looked back at her, she spoke in her usual gentle voice.
“Would it be alright to invite Evelyn to the wedding? Our families have known each other for a very long time. And you were friends with her as children.”
Her words were heavily exaggerated. Winston and Evelyn had merely attended the same kindergarten, and, unsurprisingly, he barely had any memories of her from that time. As they grew older, they had exchanged little more than polite greetings and brief conversations when they happened to cross paths.
If Winston had never met Yu-jin, perhaps his relationship with Evelyn might have taken a different course. But such hypotheticals were meaningless—he had met Yu-jin, and that was that. Whatever existed between him and Evelyn had never gone beyond that point.
Even so, he had no desire to continue this unnecessary conversation with his mother any longer.
“Do as you wish.”
“Thank you.”
Pleased by his permission, Madam Campbell beamed. She waited for Winston to take a bite of his buttered bread before speaking again.
“You seem to have some free time today. Did you push back your work schedule?”
“I’m taking the day off.”
Winston swallowed his food before answering.
“McCoy is coming in the afternoon. We’ll go over the documents and proceed with the legal formalities right away.”
At those words, Madam Campbell felt a chill run down her spine. She knew exactly what he meant by ‘documents’ and ‘legal formalities.’
The weight of reality suddenly crashed down on her. The son she had fought so hard to get back was about to be entangled in that again—she couldn’t bear it.
“Winston, just one more thing.”
His mother’s serious expression made Winston pause, his gaze locking onto hers in silence. Meeting his stare head-on, Madam Campbell finally spoke.
“Never let him bite your ear.”
Her voice was firm, heavy with warning.
“If a mark is left, who knows what kind of tricks he might pull? If he tries to use that as an excuse to cling to you—”
Winston narrowed his eyes instead of responding. A faint, crooked smile flickered at the corner of his lips.
“Mother, I’m not an idiot.”
At that, Madam Campbell finally relaxed, her tense expression softening in relief.
“Yes, of course. I trust you.”
Her tone returned to its usual gentle reprimand, as if she had never been worried in the first place. Then, she reached for the small bell on the table and gave it a light shake. When the waiting butler entered from the hallway, Madam Campbell, as always, prepared to order her breakfast.
She ordered black tea.
“Add two spoons of honey.”
“Understood.”
The butler responded politely before leaving. Winston wiped his mouth with a napkin, shifting his gaze away from his mother’s face, which, for the first time that day, looked at ease.
“Where are you going?”
Madam Campbell, waiting for her tea, asked as she watched her son suddenly rise from his seat. Winston looked down at her and answered.
“I’m going horseback riding. Stay as long as you’d like.”
“Oh, no, I’ll just finish my tea and leave. Go take care of your business.”
Rising after him, she gave Winston a light hug, smiling warmly.
“My proud son.”
Her face was filled with affection, but Winston felt nothing. Madam Campbell assumed it was natural—after all, it was well-known that Extreme Alphas had a significantly dulled capacity for emotions due to their pheromones.
With a blank expression, Winston turned and exited the breakfast room. The butler waiting in the hallway straightened his posture upon seeing him. Without breaking stride, Winston gave a curt order.
“Prepare my horse.”
The butler bowed respectfully as his master walked away with long, purposeful strides. Winston ascended the central staircase, raking his fingers through his hair as he unbuttoned his shirt. Stepping into the adjoining dressing room, he reached for clothes more suited for riding—only to catch sight of his own reflection in the floor-length mirror that covered one side of the wall.
“Never let him bite your ear.”
His mother’s words came back to him the moment his gaze met his familiar violet eyes. His neutral expression tightened, his brows furrowing as a dry, scoffing laugh escaped him.
As if an Alpha’s mark even mattered.
Alphas could leave their mark on countless Omegas, but it meant almost nothing. Some marks faded for no reason at all. More importantly, marking didn’t grant true ownership—no matter how many times an Alpha bit an Omega, their pheromones remained detectable to others. If another Alpha simply overlaid a new mark, the Omega could switch partners as easily as changing clothes.
In the end, an Alpha’s mark was nothing more than a tool to heighten an Omega’s pleasure—quickening and intensifying their orgasms, making sex more convenient. It was as if the gods were reminding Alphas of their true role: nothing more than instruments for reproduction.
Omegas, on the other hand, could mark only one Alpha in their lifetime. But the moment they did, that Alpha would belong to them—completely and irrevocably—until the day they died. An Alpha marked by an Omega could only smell their scent, could only father their children.
Ultimately, the true power lay in the hands of the Omega.
At a glance, it seemed like an incredible advantage, but it was a life-or-death gamble for them as well. If an Omega’s feelings changed—or worse, if they were forced into marking an Alpha—it wasn’t uncommon for the Alpha to turn on them, to kill them.
Because the only escape from that bond was death.
So then, what exactly made Extreme Alphas so superior?
Winston thought bitterly.
In the end, we’re just as shackled by pheromones as the rest.
Of course, the reverse was also true. If an Alpha’s desired Omega chose another, the defeated male sometimes refused to accept his loss and killed the Omega instead.
In that sense, Alphas were worse than beasts. At least animals accepted their defeat with dignity.
More often than not, however, the Alpha who lost his mate would end up being killed in turn. An Alpha’s obsession with their Omega was absolute. If an Alpha lost their Omega, they would seek revenge—no matter the cost.
His mother might have understood, in a purely academic sense, what an Alpha’s mark entailed. But Betas could never truly grasp how meaningless it really was. That’s why she could say things like that so casually.
Even so, Winston saw no need to enlighten her. He had no interest in wasting energy on needless worries.
What did it even matter? It wasn’t as if Winston would ever mark him.
Seol Yu-jin was nothing more than a tool to fulfill the terms of the will. Winston would never forget that fact. There was no room for confusion.
A mistake that risked his life—once was enough.
With an almost violent motion, Winston threw off his shirt and grabbed a polo shirt from the wardrobe. His reflection in the mirror revealed a long, grotesque scar slashing diagonally across his broad, powerful back.
***
“Really, Daddy? We can really go outside?”
Angela’s voice rose in excitement as she stared at Yu-jin, wide-eyed in disbelief. Her small face quickly flushed with joy, and Yu-jin smiled tenderly, reaching out to stroke her cheek.
“Of course, Angie. Let’s pack some sandwiches and go out. We’ll have lunch in the garden before heading back, okay?”
“Yes! I love it!”
Unable to contain her excitement, Angela began hopping up and down on the spot. Ever since the fire had destroyed their home, Yu-jin hadn’t seen her this happy. That realization filled him with both warmth and guilt.
Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner?
Aside from brief trips to the bathroom or to wash up, she had spent nearly all day locked inside their room. Of course, she would be thrilled at the chance to go outside. And yet, despite all that, she had never once thrown a tantrum or complained. Remembering her quiet patience made his heart ache.
He had been so consumed with thoughts of escape that he had never allowed himself a moment to simply breathe.
But now that he had resolved to run away with Angela the moment an opportunity arose, it was crucial to familiarize himself with both the inside and outside of Delights—the mansion’s main estate.
