I almost choked on my rice when his words registered. The audacity was staggering. I coughed vehemently, my chest heaving as I covered my mouth, the bland grains feeling like sand in my throat. I couldn't believe he had the nerve to say that to me. We had only just met, and he was talking to a convicted serial killer as if I were a prize in a claw machine.
"Are you okay?" CJ asked, his voice laced with that annoying, paternal concern. He poured water into one of the plastic cups. "Here, hand him this," he said, passing it to Sol.
Sol took the cup, his fingers lingering on the rim before he extended it to me. A smirk played on his lips, sharp and knowing. I wanted to swat it out of his hand so badly my knuckles ached, but I restrained myself. I snatched the cup with a jagged, angry motion, drowning the water in one go as if I could wash away the irritation.
After I finally managed to steady myself, I turned a lethal glare toward Sol. He acted as if nothing had happened, leaning back with a grace that didn't belong in a cage.
"Please be careful, Hyung," he said, his voice dropping into a "corky" sweetness that felt like a nail in a coffin.
I scowled at him, my lip curling. Despite the total absence of pheromones he held a powerful, unexplainable pull. It was a gravity that didn't rely on biology, and it was driving me insane.
CJ talked incessantly through the rest of the meal, a social butterfly even in the depths of a penitentiary. He gave the newcomers - the trembling Omega and the quiet Beta - the "gist" of the yard. He pointed out the hierarchies and specifically noted who not to mess with.
"If you ever get into real trouble, just look for Bin," CJ laughed, gesturing toward me with a chopstick. "Everyone practically fears him."
The Omega looked at me, his eyes raking over my frame with a mix of terror and morbid curiosity. When I caught his gaze, he flinched and looked away so fast I swear i heard his neck crack.
As we finished, the Beta I-an helped CJ clear the table. The small, flickering TV mounted near the ceiling was airing the nightly news.
Suddenly, Sol's face was plastered across the screen. I cut my eyes toward him; he didn't even blink. He watched his name being dragged through the mud with the detached interest of someone watching a weather report.
The reporter mentioned the high-security facility where Kim Sol was supposedly being held. My brow furrowed. They named a completely different prison a "rehabilitation retreat" type of place. But he was right here, in a completely opposite place.
Why would they report something false? Did something happen in the transfer? I wondered for a second before catching myself. Why would I worry about the business of a chaebol brat? I had enough to handle with my own life.
After an hour of mandated recreation, the guards barked for lights out. I closed the book I had been reading, tucked it onto my shelf, and laid out my bedding at the far end of the floor. I was about to settle in when I saw him. Sol was unrolling his own beddings right next to mine.
I froze, glaring at the back of his head. He was pushing every single one of my buttons, and it was only the first day. I cursed under my breath, turning my back to him and facing the cold concrete wall.
As the cell went dark, I could feel the heat radiating from his body through the narrow gap between our mats. It was a physical warmth that defied the chill of the night. I scowled, pulling my covers higher, trying to block out the very idea of him.
I hardly ever slept. My brain has always been wired differently - too sharp, too alert. So when I felt the slightest movement beside me, my entire body went into combat mode. Then, my breath hitched. I felt that familiar, warm breath against the skin of my neck. It didn't make my skin crawl, which made me even more irritated. It felt... inviting.
Then, I felt his hand. It worked slowly, deliberately around my waist.
I couldn't take it anymore. The others were breathing heavily in sleep, so I moved with the silent, lethal efficiency. In one fluid motion, I flipped over, pinning him down and straddling him. I clamped my hand around his neck in a crushing chokehold.
"What is your problem?" I whispered, my voice a jagged blade of anger.
Sol didn't struggle. He just looked up at me, a "corky" smile visible in the pale moonlight filtering through the bars. "Do you know how handsome you are?" he whispered back.
I felt a surge of genuine violence. I wanted to cut his mouth just so he would never make that stupid expression again. "Do you know I could rip out your tongue?"
"Yes. I know all about you, Song Bin," he whispered, his voice steady.
My body froze for a fraction of a second. My face had been on every news cycle for months; it was stupid of me to think he wouldn't know. Just as I knew him - the third and last born of the ZQ conglomerate, the reckless heir whose scandals had been social media fodder long before I even ended up in prison.
"Don't test me," I threatened, leaning down until my lips were an inch from his ear. I let the words hang in the air before I released him and rolled back to my side. I could feel his eyes on me for a long time, but he didn't move again.
The next morning, after a tense breakfast and cleanup, it was time for work. I didn't usually care for the labor, but today I was desperate to be away from Sol. I headed to the woodshed so early that even CJ looked stunned. I usually slacked off for an hour, since the money I earned just sat dormant in a prison treasury I'd never use.
"Why are you so early today?" CJ teased as we marched behind a guard. I ignored him, fastening my pace. I heard his boisterous laugh behind me before another inmate called his name. CJ, the social butterfly, got distracted, and I felt a wave of relief. I couldn't handle the banter.
I signed in and CJ began giving out instructions. I decided to actually be productive, sanding down a slab of cedar with focused aggression. Then, the air changed. I didn't smell him, but I felt the presence. I rolled my eyes and let out a long, exhausted breath.
"Wow, you even decided to work," CJ teased. I kept my eyes on the wood, the sandpaper grit echoing my mood.
"Did he get under your skin?" CJ giggled. I turned and flashed a look that would have stopped a riot. He just raised his hands in mock surrender, that smirk still plastered on his face, before wandering toward another station.
Suddenly, the heavy doors opened and the Warden stepped in, a shadow of authority behind him. He called CJ over. I looked up, and my blood ran cold. Sol was standing there, and our eyes met.
"What is he doing here?" I cursed, turning away with a scowl. He was invading every corner of my life.
CJ and the Warden spoke in hushed tones for a minute before CJ led Sol toward a workbench. I strained my S-class hearing, picking up the tail end of Sol's request to CJ.
"...Can I have him as a mentor?"
CJ looked at me with a mischievous, twinkling glint in his eyes. He nodded slowly, and Sol began walking toward me.
"Hyung," Sol said, standing in front of my table with a radiant smile.
What was his problem? Was he looking for protection? He was an heir; surely he knew how to hire a guard, but here he was, chasing a serial killer. Despite his lack of scent, he was imposing; no one would mess with him unless they were suicidal.
"CJ said I can shadow you," he said casually. He didn't mention he had requested it. CJ usually handled the trainees himself, so it was obvious Sol had pulled strings to get this assignment.
I ignored him, sanding the wood so roughly the surface began to smoke from the friction. He walked to the other side of the bench, inspecting my tools and touching various chisels. I snatched them out of his hands, slamming them back onto the table.
I wanted to spread my pheromones, to crush him under the weight of an S-class Alpha's intimidation, but he was a Null. It wouldn't work. It was like trying to punch a shadow.
"Don't touch anything," I warned.
"Sure," he chirped, like a happy puppy.
I worked in silence for hours, feeling his eyes on my every move. I could also feel CJ watching us from across the room, clearly having the time of his life watching someone finally get under my skin. Every time I turned to glare at CJ, he'd quickly look away, pretending to be deeply invested in a chair leg.
We finally signed out and headed back for the afternoon. We ate lunch in a strange silence -the Omega and , the Beta, were finally relaxing around CJ, but the tension between Sol and me was a physical thing.
Then came yard time. I sat on my usual bench, trying to maintain my routine of gathering intel and watching the prisoners.
Then, I felt him. Even without a scent, his presence was a vibration in the air. He sat silently beside me, watching the yard, before leaning in.
"Who do you spend your ruts with?"
The question was so unorthodox, so shameless, that I felt the irritation boil over. I remembered his hand on my waist from the night before and glared at him.
"I take suppressants," I said shortly, trying to end the conversation.
"You don't fuck anyone?" he asked again, his voice curious.
I let out a sharp breath and turned fully toward him. "Why are you so interested?" I demanded. I was at my absolute last straw.
"I told you. I haven't fucked an S-class Alpha before." He smirked, his eyes dancing with a localized kind of madness. He was so straightforward it was jarring. How was he so unmoved by my reputation?
"So you just want to fuck me?" I scoffed, sizing him up with open disgust.
"Yes," he said, his voice ringing with confidence.
I laughed out loud -a dry, cynical sound. Then, in a blur of motion, I grabbed his hand and twisted it, slamming him against the picnic table as our eyes locked. I expected fear. I expected him to cower. Instead, he smirked.
"I don't get fucked!" I seethed into his face, my breath heavy. I could feel the guards watching us from the towers, so I forced myself to let him go. I didn't need a stint in solitary.
"There's a first time for everything," he purred, his eyes tracing the line of my throat with a hunger that was purely, terrifyingly animalistic.