POV: Kim Haemin
The cold from the rain had already soaked through my shoes by the time I finished my shift at the convenience store. I tightened the strap of my bag, blinking through the drizzle. My fingers ached from counting bills all day, my back screamed from standing too long, and my stomach rumbled for the fifth hour in a row. But none of that mattered. I just had to make it home. I had to check on Appa.
My father wasn't doing well. Ever since his last heat triggered a hormone crash, his body had been weak. Hospital bills stacked higher than groceries, and our tiny one-room apartment barely had enough warmth to stop his coughs from echoing.
So I worked. After classes, after studying, even overnight sometimes. It wasn't much — a part-time job, tutoring, cleaning at the local bathhouse. But every won I earned was another pill, another soup, another chance that my father might get better.
Tonight felt… wrong.
The street was unusually empty. Lights flickered in the distance. I could hear my own footsteps echo against the puddles, faster than usual. I shouldn't have taken the shortcut through the alley — but it was late. I was tired. And I wanted to avoid the men who sometimes stared too long on the main road.
That's when I heard it — the soft click of a shoe behind me.
I turned. No one.
My heart skipped. I gripped the pepper spray in my pocket, just in case.
Another step. Closer.
"Who's there?" My voice wavered.
Then everything happened at once.
A sharp scent — smoky, scorching, primal — slammed into my senses like a wall of fire. My knees buckled.
A hand gripped my wrist. Strong. Cold.
Before I could scream, something pressed against my neck. A sharp sting. A needle? My vision blurred.
That scent… it wasn't normal. It wasn't like anything I'd ever felt.
Alpha. But something more. Something monstrous.
The world tilted sideways, and I collapsed into darkness.
---
I woke up on silk.
No, seriously. Silk.
My fingers brushed against a bedspread smoother than anything I'd ever touched. My head throbbed. The scent still lingered — thick in the air, like burning leather and iron.
I sat up too fast.
"Ow—" I clutched my temples.
Then I looked around.
Marble floors. Velvet curtains. A chandelier that looked older than Korea itself. The room screamed money, power, and something else… cruelty.
Where…?
The door opened.
And in walked the man whose scent had nearly knocked me unconscious.
He was tall. Towering. Jet-black hair slicked back perfectly, not a strand out of place. He moved like a shadow — calm, graceful, but you could tell. Every step was trained. Controlled.
Then his eyes met mine.
Golden. Not brown. Not hazel. Gold. Like a lion staring through your soul.
I froze.
He didn't speak at first. He didn't need to. His silence was louder than any scream.
My instincts screamed one thing: Alpha.
But this… this was beyond Alpha. This was the kind of dominance you felt in your bones.
He finally spoke.
"You're awake."
His voice was low, smooth — but there was an edge to it. Like silk hiding a dagger.
"W-Who are you?" I managed, trying to steady my breathing.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Demitri Vasiliev."
The name hit me like a slap.
I'd heard that name. Everyone had. The Vasiliev Syndicate. Russian mafia. Global arms, drugs, intel. Rumors said he once made a rival disappear by feeding him to his own wolves.
I felt my blood drain.
"Why... why did you bring me here?"
He took a slow step forward. I tried to back away — only to realize I was trapped between the bedpost and the wall.
His presence filled the room like smoke. My heart pounded. The scent was stronger here. My Omega instincts screamed to submit, to hide — but I clenched the blanket tighter.
"I assume you know your father's debt?" he asked casually, inspecting his matte black watch.
I blinked. "Debt...?"
He glanced at me, unamused. "Three hundred million won. Accrued over illegal loans, medical expenses, and past favors from the Hanma syndicate — now under my control."
I choked. "Three hundred—?! I… I didn't know it was that much—!"
He continued, ignoring my panic. "I now own the debt. And I don't wait for repayment."
I started to shake. "Please… I-I'll work. I'll pay it. Just give me time—"
Demitri stepped closer.
The scent hit me again. I gasped.
Fire. Blood. Heat.
My body tensed. My breathing grew shallow.
"Or," he said, voice softer now — almost cruelly gentle, "you marry me."
My head jerked up.
"What?"
"You become my Omega. Marked. Bound. Mine."
"No!" I shouted, trembling. "You can't just— I don't even know you!"
His golden eyes narrowed. "You think I care?"
Tears pricked my eyes. I wasn't weak. I'd held out this long. I had dreams. I wanted to study, get a job, protect my father. I didn't survive this long just to be sold.
Demitri leaned down.
His breath brushed my cheek. His scent was overwhelming — I couldn't breathe.
"If you refuse," he whispered, "your father dies by morning."
My world shattered.
No.
Not Appa. Not the man who raised me alone. Who sang to me when I was sick. Who told me I didn't need to present as an Omega if I didn't want to.
"You wouldn't," I whispered, voice shaking.
He tilted his head. "Try me."
Tears rolled down my cheeks. My fists clenched in the silk sheets. I wanted to scream. To run. To punch him in the face. But I couldn't even move.
He watched me like a hawk — calm, cold, patient.
He already knew I had no choice.
My voice broke. "You're a monster."
He didn't flinch. "And you're mine now."
I wanted to spit. To curse. To die. But I just whispered, "Fine."
His lips curved — not a smile, but something darker.
He stood up straight. "The ceremony will be tonight."
I stared. "W-What?"
"I don't wait," he said simply. "You'll be presented. Bound. Legally and biologically."
I shook my head. "You can't just—!"
But he was already at the door.
Before he left, he turned his head slightly.
"Clean up. You smell like fear."
And then he was gone.
I collapsed back onto the bed, gasping.
I had no words. No strength.
Only a growing storm in my chest.
I will survive this.
Even if the lion had claimed me — I would not break.
Not yet.
End of Chapter 1 .