“Breathe slowly, Yeonwoo. That’s it—now exhale. Good.”
Following Steward’s instructions, Yeonwoo barely managed to calm his breathing. His darkened vision began to clear, faint shapes gradually coming into focus. Once he’d stabilized to some degree, Steward handed him a pill and a cup of water.
Yeonwoo hesitated, but Steward dropped the tablet into his outstretched hand without touching him. He managed to accept the cup without issue and took the medication. Steward waited until he swallowed before speaking.
“You’re doing much better, Yeonwoo. Looks like Mr. Pittman really is helping.”
Yeonwoo lifted his drained gaze toward Steward. Three days had passed since then. As expected, he’d been commuting with Keith every day. The problem was that he still couldn’t move freely around the office the way he used to. He hadn’t had another attack, but the fear that one might strike at any moment was overwhelming.
It was the first time he’d truly understood what it meant to be consumed by terror. In the end, he hardly left the small room adjoining Keith’s office, handling everything by phone. That very evening, Steward had begun making house calls.
“Mr. Pittman said I have a week to fix you. Honestly, these Apex Alphas…”
He laughed as he said it. Steward spent about two hours with him each day, talking and administering medication. Yeonwoo wasn’t sure how much progress he’d made, but according to Steward, he’d improved considerably. Only four days had passed, yet each visit, Yeonwoo flinched less than before.
Maybe it was just the meds.
That thought occurred to him as the tension in his shoulders began to release. Breathing was noticeably easier now.
At this rate, I’ll get fired.
Even Keith had to have limits to his patience. Anxiety and restlessness gripped him. Steward, seated across from him in a matching single-person sofa, silently waited for Yeonwoo to settle.
During sessions, Steward always had Yeonwoo sit near the door—with it open. That alone helped him feel safer than being in a sealed room. If anything happened, Charles or another member of the staff would be nearby. That thought had been the greatest comfort since he’d moved into the mansion. It had been Steward’s suggestion.
Surprisingly, he was a highly competent doctor. From what Yeonwoo had heard, Steward handled only top-tier clients. For someone like him, even getting an appointment was impossible—he screened patients obsessively. Though he was known as Keith’s physician, Yeonwoo had recently learned that Keith hadn’t received counseling since his teenage years.
“It’s just a formality. Apex Alphas need to be monitored.”
He said it offhandedly, but Yeonwoo grew curious.
“Is there any particular reason?”
Steward waited until Yeonwoo’s eyes had fully regained focus before replying.
“How long has it been since you became Mr. Pittman’s secretary?”
“Just over two years.”
“Have you met any other Apex Alphas in that time?”
Grayson Miller came to mind. But Yeonwoo shook his head. He was just a friend of Keith’s who occasionally made appearances—not really someone he could say he’d met in a meaningful way.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Then I’m not surprised. It's not easy for regular people to know anything about Apex Alphas.”
Steward muttered the words like he was talking to himself.
“Their greatest weapon is their pheromones, right? The exact neurological mechanism hasn’t been identified, but it’s widely accepted that pheromones are what lead to all their... traits. Exceptional intelligence, superior athleticism, striking looks, even sociopathic tendencies. They're all characteristics shared by Apex Alphas.”
He smiled faintly and added in a joking tone:
“Have you seen the latest studies? They’ve got incredible immune systems. They rarely get sick, heal quickly, and detox drugs and alcohol several times faster than the average person. Apparently, they can drink wine laced with cocaine or ecstasy and barely get drunk. They don’t even get addicted. The only effect is a temporary dip in motor function. Fascinating, isn’t it? And it’s all thanks to pheromones. Sure, there are a few drugs that can affect them, but even those require complex administration—usually mixed with alcohol and delivered under specific conditions.”
“Hearing all that, it sounds like Apex Alpha pheromones are practically a miracle cure,” Yeonwoo muttered under his breath, feeling somewhat deflated.
Steward chuckled and twirled his finger in the air.
“There’s no such thing as a being with only strengths. Even the gods have some sense of conscience.”
Yeonwoo looked at him in confusion, waiting for the next words. Steward continued, almost playfully.
“The stronger the pheromones, the greater the danger… It builds up like poison.”
He tapped two fingers lightly against his own temple.
“It fries this.”
“Excuse me?”
Yeonwoo’s eyes widened at the unexpected statement. Steward explained casually.
“They go mad—if you want to put it that way. Until they’ve released enough pheromones, they’re not mentally stable. Think about it. Their regular output, plus the rut cycle? Their brains get marinated in pheromones.”
Yeonwoo remained silent, and Steward gave him a knowing smile.
“Now you understand why Apex Alphas are so addicted to sex. Sure, they can force a massive release over a short time, but even that’s limited. There's only so much you can do to purge it artificially.”
Yeonwoo couldn’t stop his expression from hardening.
“That just sounds like an excuse to justify their promiscuity. That doesn’t mean they need to switch partners constantly.”
He stated it flatly. Steward smiled and shrugged, as if to say, So what?
After a pause, Yeonwoo asked again.
“What do you mean by ‘going mad’?”
Steward answered without hesitation.
“They lose their mind completely. In the moment, they’re not there.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“They say if a dog’s nearby, they’ll do it with the dog.”
Yeonwoo nearly dropped the cup in his hand. Was he serious? He stared, shocked. Steward rested his chin on one hand and smiled.
“If there’s no one else, what choice do they have? It’s not like they remember anything afterward anyway.”
Yeonwoo stared at him, speechless. How could anyone say something like that so calmly? He opened his mouth, but it took a few seconds before any sound emerged.
“So… that was just an example, right? A metaphor?”
He hoped Steward would laugh and say it was a joke. But the man didn’t give him the reaction he was expecting. Instead, Steward made a thoughtful noise, then gave a peculiar smile.
“There’s a rumor that one of the Millers did exactly that.”
Yeonwoo was struck dumb. Eyes blinking rapidly, he stared as Steward casually added,
“I heard it was a Rottweiler. He went into rut and didn’t have anything prepared, so he did it with the dog. A breed that size would at least be physically compatible with an Apex Alpha. I doubt he tried it with a Pomeranian—those are too small, right? Like pairing a heavyweight with a featherweight.”
He chuckled, clearly amused by his own analogy.
Yeonwoo couldn’t laugh at all.
For a rumor, it was disturbingly specific. Who could it have been? He didn’t want to believe it, but at the same time, a dark curiosity crept in.
The Miller family was famous for having six siblings—all Apex Alphas. Their father, once the owner of a massive law firm, had passed the reins to his eldest son before moving into politics. That eldest son was Nathaniel Miller, known as the “Demon of the Legal World,” a ruthless corporate attorney.
The family, with their elite lineage and public profiles, were all well-known. All except one.
The eldest, Nathaniel Miller, who most closely resembled their father. The second, Grayson, the playboy who always smiled. And the third, Chase Miller, rumored to be a mad dog. The fourth and fifth were also Apex Alphas, but they were women. Since they were daughters, they were excluded when referring to “the brothers.”
The youngest was a son, but his face had never been shown to the public. Still, since everyone in the family—except the Omega who gave birth to them—was an Apex Alpha, it was assumed he must be one too.
Yeonwoo recalled each of their faces, one by one, and then shuddered. He couldn’t imagine it being any of them. Not the cold-faced Nathaniel. Not the slick, ever-smiling Grayson. Not even Chase, infamous for his temper.
Then… could it be the youngest?
Snap.
Something flashed before his eyes. Startled, Yeonwoo blinked rapidly. Steward was leaning in close. Only then did he realize Steward had snapped his fingers right in front of his face.
“Ah, I’m sorry. I got lost in thought for a moment…”
He hurriedly apologized. Steward smiled lightly.
“No problem. But see? You were totally fine just now.”
Yeonwoo blinked again in surprise. Steward was right. He had been.
Steward tilted his chin smugly.
“You’re starting to get the hang of it. Try focusing your mind elsewhere. That’ll reduce the number of panic episodes.”
“I see…”
Yeonwoo, relieved without realizing it, gave a small smile.
“So that Miller story earlier—you made it up, didn’t you? Just to shift my attention.”
“Oh, no. That one’s real.”
Steward cheerfully denied it, still smiling as Yeonwoo froze. He added, chuckling,
“No one could make up something like that. Whether it’s true or not is unconfirmed, but the rumor’s definitely out there. And when it comes to Apex Alphas, well… you know. People like that wouldn’t think twice about doing something like that.”
Unfortunately, Yeonwoo couldn’t argue. He had no choice but to stay silent.
“Ahem.”
A polite cough caught his attention. He turned to see Charles standing just outside the open door.
“Your session is over. Would you like to extend it?”
“No, that’ll be all for today.”
Steward stood with a smile. Charles entered without hesitation, bowed politely in front of Yeonwoo, and said,
“Excuse me.”
Then, with impeccable grace, he collected Yeonwoo’s empty teacup.
Steward waited for him and then walked out alongside. Yeonwoo called out to his back.
“Thank you again for today.”
“See you tomorrow, Yeonwoo—oh, right, it’s the weekend.”
Realizing his mistake, Steward corrected himself.
“See you Monday.”
He smiled as he said it. Yeonwoo nodded in return.
“Yes, Monday.”
After Charles and Steward left the room, Yeonwoo remained seated for a while, dazed. The new information left him unsettled. Even as his rational mind scoffed, his heart kept trying to understand Keith.
He can’t help it—he was just born that way.
The indifference, the constant turnover of partners, the way he never saw Yeonwoo as a potential one—it was all just the pheromones.
…Even though Yeonwoo knew that was just who Keith was.
Trying so desperately to justify him made Yeonwoo feel pathetic. His nose stung, and just as he was about to sniffle—
“What’s wrong?”
The sudden voice made him jump from the chair. Keith stood just beyond the open doorway. Yeonwoo’s eyes went wide, blinking rapidly in panic. Keith frowned as he looked at him.
“Were you crying?”
Yeonwoo could only stare, caught off guard. Keith remained in place. Yeonwoo finally managed to answer.
“No.”
The crease in Keith’s brow deepened. Then he suddenly stepped forward, striding toward Yeonwoo in large, unhurried steps. Before he could react, Keith stood directly in front of him.
Yeonwoo stared blankly as those elegant, long fingers reached for his face. Keith’s fingertips brushed beneath his eyes. He spoke in a low voice.
“They’re red.”
Yeonwoo suddenly felt like crying for real. He needed to say something, but his voice wouldn’t come. He coughed to clear his throat and finally spoke.
“I’m just… a little tired. Did you just get here? Charles went to see Dr. Steward out.”
He hurriedly changed the subject. Keith, who’d been silent, pulled his hand away from Yeonwoo’s face and casually ran it through his hair. Yeonwoo watched as those dark strands slipped through Keith’s fingers and fell back into place.
“What did Steward say?”
“Sorry?”
“You heard me.”
Keith’s tone was calm but firm. Yeonwoo realized then that Keith had misunderstood—he thought something in the treatment had made him cry. That was… honestly, a relief.
“Nothing serious… I was just having a hard time, that’s all.”
He forced a limp smile, silently praying Keith would buy the lie.
But it was a meaningless hope. Keith wouldn’t know if Yeonwoo was lying or not. He didn’t care enough to notice such things.
Realizing that, Yeonwoo quickly changed the subject again.
“How was your date? You’re home early.”
And just like that, he’d stepped on a landmine. Keith had met someone at a hotel today. Yeonwoo had made the arrangements—the reservation, the schedule, everything. After work, Keith had dropped Yeonwoo off at the mansion and gone straight to the hotel without even getting out of the car.
Yeonwoo had known exactly what the purpose was. And yet he’d still asked.
Keith let out a soft scoff.
“Date?”
Yeonwoo closed his mouth, having nothing else to say. He couldn’t exactly correct himself by saying, Ah, right. So how was the sex? Not that he ever wanted to know.
Ah.
His vision swam. Only then did he notice Keith’s pheromones. They had blended into his breath so seamlessly that Yeonwoo hadn’t realized. When his blurred vision wavered, Keith suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him forward.
Thud.
Their bodies collided, but Yeonwoo felt nothing. He only closed his eyes, enveloped in the sweet scent.
“When are you going to get used to this?”
Keith’s muttering was ambiguous—was it a complaint or genuine curiosity? Yeonwoo didn’t know. He simply leaned limply into Keith, resting his head on the man’s shoulder like a puppet.
Keith let go of his arm, but Yeonwoo stayed there. Keith didn’t push him away. He simply let him stay close, let him breathe in as much of his scent as he wanted.
The clean lines of Keith’s suit and the pheromones mixed with faint traces of body wash and cool skin—the lingering smell of sex. A wave of melancholy crept in.
Intoxicated by the pheromones, Yeonwoo murmured,
“Dr. Steward said I’m doing much better…”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Keith’s scent spread through him, filling him from the inside. His thoughts grew fuzzy. It was okay. He was taking more than the prescribed dose every day—just to make sure he wouldn’t go into heat in front of this man, just so Keith wouldn’t hate him.
What happens if I lose my mind?
Would I, like Apex Alphas, forget everything?
It might actually be better that way…
...Haa.