The torrential downpour pelted the windshield of the sedan while the city lights of Seoul swam outside in streaks of red and yellow.
Inside the dark, leather-walled cabin, the air hung in thick, stifling ribbons.
Han Seo-jun lay curled beneath the folds of Tae-hyuk’s damp wool overcoat, his entire body writhing in violent, convulsive shivers.
But the feverish flush of his skin pressed against Tae-hyuk’s throat in white-hot pulses.
With every hitching, uneven breath the boy took, another wave of untempered winter camellias rolled into the confined space, sweet and raw and overwhelming.
Tae-hyuk’s grip was iron on the wheel, knuckles bleached paler by the pressure.
The Alpha in him raged, howled at his veins to drag the gas pedal to the floor, to peel out of the slow-moving traffic and clamp the wriggling, fevered youth to his chest.
It took twenty-eight years of sheer will not to yank the unconscious Seo-jun into his lap, to press his mouth to the boy’s fevered temple and swallow the petrichor rolling off him in waves.
He all but ground his teeth together to keep from marking the kid’s neck with his scent, to let the smoldering heat of his Alpha pheromones cool the boy’s burning skin.
Tae-hyuk tapped at his ear, bringing up a private encrypted line as he kept his eyes forward.
“Min-joon,” he growled at the answering voice on the other end.
“Get to the penthouse.
Now.
Bring the diagnostics and plenty of dampeners.” “Tae-hyuk, what’s happening?” His friend’s voice was sharp with concern.
“What’s wrong with him?
I’m still at the central clinic-” the man’s words snapped off on the next breath.
“You’ve got to tell me what’s wrong!” “Min-joon.
Cancel anything you have and come to the penthouse.
Now.” He didn’t loosen his hold on the wheel as he waited for the thunderous pounding of the private elevator on the other end of the line.
Twenty-eight minutes later, the doors slid open to reveal the master bedroom of his private estate.
Tae-hyuk set the boy down on the bed, stepping back the moment his arms cleared Seo-jun’s shoulders.
A soft whimper escaped the youth’s lips and he tossed his head from side to side, his pale fingers digging desperately into the dark silk of the sheets, searching for the warmth that had vanished with him.
“Stay,” Seo-jun whined sleepily, the word slurred in the haze of fever.
“Don’t…” Tae-hyuk’s heart stuttered in his chest and he forced himself to pace back, his boots clicking against the hewn wood floor.
He halted at the foot of the bed where the shadows spilled from the edges of the mattress, his arms folded across his chest as he stared down at the writhing boy on the bed.
The moment Dr.
Lee Min-joon’s private elevator touched down on the master suite floor, the man was already standing in the doorway to the bedroom, wide-eyed.
He stepped inside the room, two heavy silver medical cases slung over one shoulder, but came to an abrupt halt at the sight that met his gaze.
His throat bobbed as he caught a deep whiff of the heavy air that hung over the sheets.
Instinct had him grabbing for the surgical mask that hung from a chain at his neck, pulling it up over his nose and mouth.
“What in God’s name…..” he muttered, pushing the fabric a little further down his face.
“This is insane.
Are you out of your mind?” He turned to Tae-hyuk where he stood at the foot of the bed.
“What’s the pheromone content of this room?
This is nearly suffocating!” “Tae-hyuk,” Min-joon said, his voice a growl, “what’s wrong with this boy?
Who is he?” The older doctor wasted no time.
He crossed the room in a few quick strides, setting the cases down on the bed with a thud.
Opening the first, he pulled out a small, portable medical scanner and clipped the necessary sensors to the boy’s wrists and the hollow of his collarbone.
The machine went off immediately, issuing concerned, pinging beeps.
“Heat is spiking above 40 degrees,” he muttered to himself, taking in the red spikes on the little screen.
He turned his attention the flushed, feverish face of the writhing youth.
“Pupils are dilated.
Heart rate is at 142 and climbing.
His scent glands are inflamed.” He pressed two fingers to the side of Seo-jun’s neck, applying a little pressure.
The boy gasped and twisted violently against the sheets, his skin burning where the doctor’s fingers hovered.
“His scent is completely overwhelming,” Min-joon said, looking up at Tae-hyuk with wide, serious eyes.
“His body is shutting down.
His receptors are seizing.
What happened to him?
He should have been on hormone preps if his scent is fluctuating this much.” He stopped, frowning.
“Tae-hyuk, his scent level is too high for a normal Omega heat.
Has he been exposed to an outside catalyst?” Tae-hyuk’s jaw tensed.
“His name is Han Seo-jun.
He’s been living his twenty-three years of life as a Beta.” Min-joon blinked, still looking at the little screen in his hands.
“An Omega’s scent can’t reach this level when he’s exhibiting normal heat patterns,” the doctor said slowly.
“Especially not a Beta’s.” “Tae-hyuk, listen to me,” Min-joon said, his voice dark with warning.
“I need you to tell me what’s going on with that boy.
What’s happened to him?” The older man stepped forward, his brows furrowing.
“He’s in bad shape.” “The signs started a few days ago when he accidentally touched me on the street,” Tae-hyuk said.
“He didn’t know what was happening to him.” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his mouth.
“So he went to the National Genetic Research Center to have his genome scanned today.” He shot a meaning look at Min-joon.
“He went to Dr.
Yoon Seung-woo.” At the mention of the researcher’s name, Min-joon paled.
“He’s a good friend,” Tae-hyuk said evenly.
“He looked over his tests and told him he was suffering from nervous exhaustion and prescribed him some light sedatives.
But it seems Dr.
Yoon was lying when he said the boy’s scent level wasn’t spiking.” Min-joon’s eyes narrowed.
“Synthetic catalysts?” “He wanted to stimulate his heat,” Tae-hyuk continued.
“When Seung-woo saw his test results, he knew he’d found a true Royal Prime Omega.
The last of his kind, probably.” He tilted his head, his expression dark.
“But Seo-jun was still an unregistered Beta, so he couldn’t harvest him immediately.” Min-joon’s hands tightened over the medical scanner.
“What do you mean harvest him?” “Seung-woo sent him home with a dose of ‘light sedatives’ to suppress his heat,” Tae-hyuk continued, his voice a dangerous growl.
“When the boy took the pills at his apartment, his scent glands ruptured.
By the time his scent hit the street, an armed unit from Helix Biotech was waiting for him in the alley behind his building.” “Tae-hyuk,” Min-joon hissed, his expression paling.
“Do you know what kind of resources Helix has access to?” “They cornered him in the alley,” Tae-hyuk said, his hands clenching at his sides.
“They were there to take him while his scent was at its peak.
I ended up killing their leader before he could get anywhere near the boy.
But his scent nearly drove me insane in that alley.” Min-joon turned his startled gaze to the Vice Chairman, his mouth parting in shock.
He looked from the unconscious boy on the bed to Tae-hyuk’s dangerous eyes, his hands tightening around the metal scanner in his hands.
He tapped a few more keys, his brows knitting together in thought.
“A synthetic catalyst,” he murmured, his attention on the unconscious boy on the bed.
He moved to the end of the mattress and tapped a few more keys before pulling a long, thin syringe from the silver medical case he’d brought in with him.
He carefully slid it into the boy’s upper arm, drawing a few vials of dark, rusty blood into tiny glass tubes.
“Tae-hyuk,” Min-joon said quietly as he capped the glass, his fingers brushing against his own mouth.
“If Dr.
Yoon knew what he was doing when he gave those sedatives to the boy, he’s not just a rogue researcher.” He looked up at the vice chairman again, his voice growing serious.
“He found a dormant Royal Prime lineage.
The kind that was thought to be extinct five years ago.” Min-joon’s hands shook slightly as he held the glass vials.
“Do you know what he intends to do with this information?” “It doesn’t matter,” Tae-hyuk said, his voice quiet but firm.
“Run the diagnostics.
We need to know what exactly is happening with him.” “Run the diagnostics,” he repeated, turning back to the boy.
“If Dr.
Yoon knew what he was doing when he gave those sedatives to the boy, he’s not just a rogue researcher.” Min-joon stepped to the edge of the bed, his hands hovering over the boy’s pale, fevered skin.
“You don’t think he knew what he was doing, did you?” he asked Tae-hyuk, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You don’t think he knew what was happening when he saw that boy’s test results.” “No,” said Tae-hyuk quietly.
“I think he knew exactly what he was doing when he gave the boy his ‘light sedatives.’ This wasn’t the first time he’s seen a Royal Omega.
If he’s been keeping tabs on his research since becoming an Alpha, he knows exactly what he needs to look for to find one.” Min-joon’s hands trembled.
He turned back to the boy on the bed and stared at the soft, fevered skin that had been so intimately touched by Tae-hyuk.
“That means he’s been searching for Royal Omegas for twenty-eight years,” he whispered.
“Yes,” said Tae-hyuk.
“Now, run the diagnostics so we know what’s happening with him.” “I will,” said Min-joon with a grim look in his eyes.
“Because whoever is making this happen is not going to stop when they see he’s a Royal Omega.
I’m going to make sure they pay for what they’ve done to him.”