Yan Yi’s vision darkened, his cheek pressed against Lu Shangjin’s chest as the narcissus-scented pheromones flooded his nose and glands.
“Lu Shangjin?” he murmured the name.
“It’s me. I’m here.” Lu Shangjin held him tightly with his forearm, lifting Yan Yi from the dust- and glass-strewn ground into a seated position.
“Are you hurt?” Lu Shangjin’s hand traced from Yan Yi’s neck down to his toes, confirming no injuries, letting out a relieved breath.
When Yan Yi’s gaze fell on Lu Shangjin’s dust- and blood-stained hand resting against his cheek, he froze.
Even the palm of this alpha bore old, raised scars. Touching his face, Yan Yi could hear his own heart thudding.
He saw the alpha’s side stained with blood, still dripping.
For some reason, an inexplicable surge of fierce heat rose in Yan Yi’s chest.
He snatched the AK47 from Lu Shangjin’s shoulder, slinging it onto himself, holding it in one hand, and climbed up from Lu Shangjin’s lap, offering him a delicate, pale hand.
Lu Shangjin, astonished and moved, gently grasped it and stood.
He had thought Yan Yi would never again allow him to hold his hand.
Yan Yi checked the magazine, lifting the corners of his long lashes at Lu Shangjin. “Bullets.”
“…” Lu Shangjin opened his suit jacket to reveal two magazines, letting him choose, cautiously asking, “Do you remember me now…?”
Yan Yi cut him off. “Hollow points.”
Lu Shangjin, momentarily speechless, handed them over.
The little rabbit ears twitched at a subtle rustling. Yan Yi raised his right hand and fired a pinpoint shot toward one o’clock.
As he pulled the trigger, a gland hunter rappelling down was pierced through the heart, flung back, organs and blood bursting outward.
Unquestionably, he was a trained, elite combat machine, choosing maximum lethality with hollow points.
The little rabbit’s figure overlapped with the lover clouded in his memory. It had been Lu Shangjin’s obsession that tamed him—romantic yet cruel, gun in hand, rose between his lips.
It was Lu Shangjin who had forced Yan Yi to fold his wings and become a caged bird to satisfy his need for control. Even after Yan Yi obeyed, Lu Shangjin’s dissatisfaction persisted.
Those years of unpredictable whims and capriciousness had left the little rabbit thoroughly confused.
Yan Yi followed the rope, jumping up and tilting his chin at Lu Shangjin: “Follow me.”
Lu Shangjin leapt lightly, grabbed the rope, climbed swiftly, pulling Yan Yi into his embrace, flipping back onto the collapsed rooftop.
The sensation of being held was… not unpleasant, though the setting was far from suitable.
Yan Yi simply hung the AK on his left arm, letting Lu Shangjin carry him upward.
He did not resist the touch or embrace. Lu Shangjin relaxed his shoulders slightly, lips curving.
There was still a chance to make amends. If Yan Yi would give him the opportunity, he would correct his wrongs.
Yan Yi glared at him sideways, pressing the stock against Lu Shangjin’s chin. “Did I pamper you that much before? You were… quite attractive.”
“What?” Lu Shangjin took a moment to register.
What had that spider done to Yan Yi to warp his memory so?
Artificially induced memory confusion eroded neural pathways, harming the omega’s body.
Lu Shangjin kissed his forehead, answering with effort, “…Yes. I did pamper you… very much…”
Back then, he had never cherished it, treating it like worthless paper.
Outside, artillery roared; heavy machine-gun fire concentrated on one corner. Shao Wenjing cradled the tear-streaked Wen Chi, removing his bulletproof vest to shelter him, weaving through the chaos and briefly crossing paths with Lu Shangjin and Yan Yi as they climbed the stairs.
Seeing Wen Chi unharmed, Yan Yi relaxed his white-knuckled grip on the AK.
Shao Wenjing released calming pheromones. He had no energy to care for others—Wen Chi trembled, terrified in his arms.
The scent of poppy surrounded Yan Yi. His body shivered, instinctively following Shao Wenjing downstairs.
His steps rushed; Shao Wenjing gave no signal to wait. Yan Yi bit his lip, breaking free from Lu Shangjin’s hold to pursue.
“Yan Yan!” Lu Shangjin grabbed him fiercely, growling with frustration, “You’re going after him?!”
“He’s my alpha. Who else would I follow…” Yan Yi’s tail tone betrayed his fear of being left behind.
Shao Wenjing, seeing Yan Yi clutching the little rabbit, had no time to care about anything else.
“Grabbing him won’t help,” he sneered, brushing past Lu Shangjin with Wen Chi. “I’ve marked him—he’s my omega now.”
Those words, dripping with casual arrogance, tore a hole in Lu Shangjin’s already fractured heart.
A thin thread of spider silk connected to Yan Yi’s glands, siphoning out the memory-disrupting toxin injected earlier.
“He’s going to hate you to death. Good luck,” Shao Wenjing scoffed, carrying Wen Chi down the stairs and fleeing.
Lu Shangjin clutched Yan Yi tighter, flipping the hair at the nape to reveal the bite mark from the marking—an eight-legged spider totem imprinted on his glands.
The pent-up rage and frustration ignited; in the confined space, narcissus pheromones surged. He activated his bond ability, “Seize,” intent on tearing the spider to pieces.
Yan Yi’s soul seemed to step out of his body, frozen, staring at Shao Wenjing’s retreating back as if something had been stripped from him.
He recalled an alpha leaving just like that—resolutely turning his back, abandoning him like a sick dog left in the countryside, leaving life or death to fate.
Seeing his omega lost and forlorn, Lu Shangjin’s gaze softened helplessly. He quickly suppressed his pheromones and held Yan Yi close, whispering hoarsely, “It’s my fault. We’re going home. I’ll make it right.”
He glanced toward Shao Wenjing’s disappearing figure, squinting, imprinting the image in his mind.
He admitted all the cruelty he had inflicted on Yan Yi—but had never marked him to be tracked by Lu Lin. That was genuine protection, even if it had once become corrupted.
Yan Yi remained silent.
Lu Shangjin, taking advantage of the lack of resistance, carried him away.
The Changhui villa had been empty for days, devoid of life.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, clouds pressed across the sky, promising a storm.
Lu Shangjin awaited a tempest long overdue.
He even hoped the little rabbit would unleash fury on him; even a strike would be met without retaliation.
But Yan Yi curled into a ball in the sofa corner, eyes vacant, a hollow void.
His only movement was clutching his abdomen, a lost expression on his face.
Lu Shangjin approached with the false pregnancy report in hand, voice soft, careful not to agitate him:
“It’s a false pregnancy. I didn’t harm our child,” he said, pointing to the words. “See? Nothing. But if you want a child, we will have one.”
Yan Yi stared blankly at the report, memories clashing violently in his mind, fragmented like a jumbled drawer—what he sought was lost, what he wanted to discard scattered everywhere.
Lu Shangjin released soothing pheromones, drawing Yan Yi into his embrace, murmuring comfort: “Don’t believe that false report—it’s Shao Wenjing’s provocation. That photo before—it was all manipulation.”
The report was suddenly ripped from his hand.
Yan Yi stared at it, dazed.
Lu Shangjin eased his pheromones, lightly stroking Yan Yi’s arm: “We will have a child. I care for you, for the baby. Forgive me—we can start anew, okay?”
Yan Yi remained unmoved.
He made no struggle, sitting dazed in Lu Shangjin’s arms, body icy as if coming from a freezer, making Lu Shangjin shiver.
The spider mark on his neck rejected Lu Shangjin’s soothing pheromones; the more Lu Shangjin tried, the more pained Yan Yi appeared.
He suddenly remembered the day Shao Wenjing bit his nape, injecting pheromones, spreading him apart.
The terrifying memory sent chills through his body.
“No.”
Yan Yi pushed Lu Shangjin away forcefully, falling from the sofa to his knees, retching, trying to purge the deep-seated nausea.
As Lu Shangjin approached, he overturned the glass coffee table, shattering everything visible in the living room.
“Get out—OUT—!!!”
Yan Yi snapped, violently shoving Lu Shangjin, destroying everything, screaming, “What is an alpha?! What are you?! Stay away from me! You’re all disgusting! GET OUT—!!!”
Lu Shangjin’s injured side was struck by the flying ashtray, the white gauze instantly soaking crimson.
Ignoring the pain, he seized Yan Yi in a lull, kissing his forehead, holding him despite the struggle and curses.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he murmured, lips trembling, repeating the words. “I’ll get you vengeance. Just get better—I’ll get you vengeance. Don’t hurt yourself.”
Gradually, Yan Yi stopped struggling, hands drooping, standing weakly as if a breeze could topple him without Lu Shangjin’s support.
“I don’t want to see you,” he said.
The scent belonging to Lu Shangjin had vanished; without the A3 high-level gland instinctual bond, Lu Shangjin’s brilliance faded into the gray surrounding world.
He was no longer the special alpha.
Neither was Shao Wenjing.
It was as if his soul were trapped, wandering the boundless stars, searching every star for a place to belong, finding none.
The warmth on his shoulder reminded Lu Shangjin that Yan Yi silently wept, eyes void of light.