(Dohyn pov)
I sat in the corner of the café and across it was a man with dirty blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He was laughing—softly, almost carelessly—with a group of friends.
I hated him for it. I was envious.
Not because he was handsome or popular. I hated him because his smile looked so free. It shone brighter than the stars itself. My chest tightened as I stared, wishing—aching—to smile like that. Why can't I be like him? Why do I only ever feel… empty? I want to smile as well. I wish I could smile brighter than him.
My gaze lingered too long until his gaze shifted towards me. For a second, I froze. He looked a little startled, maybe uncomfortable, but instead of looking away, he smiled. A small, polite curve of his lips. It made my heart stumble—and then the moment shattered.
A sharp sting exploded across my cheek.
"Stay alive, you whore," came from the bastard.
Park Hyok. My master. He had awful green hair and blue eyes.
I bit down hard on my lip, tasting iron. If I showed pain, if I made a sound, the punishment later would be worse. His fingers—calloused and unyielding—clamped around my ear and yanked, forcing me to bow my head like some obedient pet.
Let me explain… but where should I even start?
When I was five, my parents were drowning in debt. My mother was murdered. My father broke and threw himself off a cliff. My uncle took me in, but by fourteen he'd sold me—to him. Park Hyok. I was just merchandise. A toy. A tool. A puppet and even worse a lab experiment.
Well it was thirteen years ago. I'm twenty-seven now. He's thirty-four. My life is still a living hell.
Why? Because I'm a recessive omega. A defect people despise. And Hyok—no, Master—decided I'd make a good lab rat for his experiments to "correct" me, to twist me into a dominant omega.
A recessive omega is practically like a beta. It's nearly impossible to scent their pheromones and rarely get into heat. Guess what, they don't have the ability to get pregnant like every other omegas.
And right now? This wasn't even a date. Sure I dressed well and so but this was payment. Another installment against a debt that can never be cleared that passed towards me after my parents death.
"My… apologies," I whispered, head down.
He sneered, not accepting it. His hand slid from my ear to my wrist, crushing it until I felt the bones grind. "Don't act like you're human," he muttered. I hated that word. I didn't need a reminder that I am just a tool. He dragged me to my feet. Chairs scraped as people turned to stare. No one moved. They never do.
"We are going home. You already caused a lot of problems."
"Problems? Master, I didn't even do anything." I could sense the venom in him. He released his pheromones poisoning me. His pheromones are unbearable and suffocating when he's mad. I held my breath trying not to pass out. I was afraid off one particular punishment.
He shot me a death glare and check me from head to toes.
"Everything off you is a problem. You can't even handle pheromones nor release them." he whispered. Before I even could react, he shoved me toward the door. I stumbled, knees weak, but I kept my face blank. Don't cry. Don't cry. He'll only hurt you more later.
And then—
"Someone call the police. An assault. No kidnapping is occurring!"
The voice cut through the café like shattering glass.
I froze. My master froze. Every head turned us. Eyes everywhere. All at me.
And there he was. The man with the bright smile that shone brighter than a star, now standing, anger flashing in his brown eyes but his smile remained calm. His chair clattered to the ground as he pointed straight at us.
"You heard me! CALL THE DAMN POLICE!"
Hyok's grip on my arm tightened painfully. Like a warning sign.I felt the blood drain from my face. No, no, please don't do this… you'll make him angrier. He'll take it out on me later…I can't bear his punishments.
"Mind your own damn business," Hyok growled, but there was a tremor in his voice. People were pulling out phones. Someone had started recording.
And for the first time in years, I saw fear—not in myself, but in him. Did he really care about public image?
My heart pounded so hard it hurt. The stranger's eyes met mine again. No polite smile this time. Just raw, steady defiance.
I wanted to scream don't help me, but no words came out. Just silence, and the sharp sting of tears I'd promised myself I'd never shed in public.