“…So that’s what it was?”
Yeonwoo opened his eyes as if realizing something. An Alpha's rut cycle was longer than an Omega's. And depending on the person and circumstance, an Alpha’s possessiveness toward their partner could intensify dramatically.
Some Alphas experienced such extreme possessiveness that it was classified as pathological. There were even prescription treatments meant to suppress that aggression.
Was this whole situation Chahyun’s doing because of that?
Even so, confining someone like this was excessive. During his last rut, Chahyun had been obsessively sexual and unwilling to leave the bed, but that fell within a predictable range.
But this time was different. Even if there hadn’t been any signs before, this was a special case—an unexpected breakup that Yeonwoo hadn’t wanted. That alone could have easily provoked a surge in Alpha possessiveness, especially during the pre-rut period.
Seen from that angle, the abnormal behavior Chahyun had displayed since yesterday started to make a certain amount of sense. Still…
“And he’s already acting like this even though it hasn’t even started yet?”
Yeonwoo muttered unconsciously to himself.
If this was what he was like before rut, then things would only get worse once it actually began. Yeonwoo had gone through several rut cycles with Chahyun before, but never during a breakup. He couldn’t imagine what would happen now.
And if Yeonwoo’s own heat cycle overlapped, trapped here like this, it was obvious what would unfold—he would end up in bed with a man who was planning to marry someone else, night after night, driven purely by instinct and stripped of any will.
Maybe that was exactly what Chahyun wanted. Maybe he intended to keep him here until his heat ended, betting that if they spent several days locked together and constantly mating, Yeonwoo’s resentment about the marriage would be dulled and things would go back to how they were.
Either way, rut or heat—this couldn’t continue. Yeonwoo reached that conclusion with certainty.
If Chahyun was already this obsessive before rut, then once it hit full force, it wouldn’t be surprising if he went as far as to bind Yeonwoo’s limbs.
He had to get out while he still had his phone.
…But how?
From experience, Yeonwoo already knew that just lashing out wouldn’t work. Trying to overpower him physically was impossible too—there was a clear difference in strength.
I didn’t mean to hurt you. Yesterday, I just lost my temper…
Yeonwoo bit at his fingernails, recalling the look on Chahyun’s face earlier as he knelt down and fumbled awkwardly, seemingly overwhelmed.
Maybe it would be more effective to play along a little, rather than being too confrontational.
***
The next morning, Yeonwoo got out of bed as soon as he opened his eyes and headed straight for the front door.
“Hah…”
As expected, the bodyguards were still stationed outside.
“You are not permitted to leave.”
The response was delivered in a detached, professional tone. Yeonwoo didn’t even feel like replying—he slammed the door shut and trudged over to the sofa, letting his drained body collapse into the cushions.
Out of habit, he checked his phone. There was a missed call from his mother during the night. He had missed her call a few days ago as well, so this time, he immediately pressed the call button.
—Son, are you doing well?
“You called last night. What’s up?”
—Oh, nothing. I was just wondering how you’ve been lately. Thought I’d call to hear your voice.
“Same as always. How’s your back? You said it was hurting.”
—Ah, the back’ll heal if I leave it alone. It’s been much better since the surgery. Do you have food at home? If not, I can come by and—
“No, Mom, your back’s bad. Don’t bother cooking anything. I’m fine.”
—Really? I was thinking of visiting Seoul anyway—drop off some side dishes and see your face. It’s been a while...
At the mention of coming to Seoul, Yeonwoo sat up straighter on the couch.
“…No, I’m kind of busy lately. Come another time.”
—Is something going on?
“It’s not a big deal, just… I’m swamped. If you want to come, maybe wait until next month, or the one after.”
—Aren’t you pushing yourself too hard? Nothing serious going on, right?
“Nothing worth worrying about... haah. Just some stuff. I’ll call you again later.”
The longer they talked, the heavier Yeonwoo’s heart grew. He could hear her lingering hesitation through the speaker, like she still had something left to say—but Yeonwoo pretended not to notice and ended the call.
His mother didn’t know he was dating Chahyun. So whenever she visited Seoul, they usually met at the officetel or the café. Since he couldn’t possibly explain the current situation to her, this was the best option.
Besides, there was a deeper, messier history when it came to his family. Yeonwoo hadn’t spoken to his father in years, but he knew his mother still kept in touch.
His father, still living deep in gambling addiction, apparently continued to ask her for money. In the end, whatever she gave him came from Yeonwoo’s pocket.
No matter how many times he told her to stop, she kept helping his father. At some point, it became hard for Yeonwoo to even stay in contact with her. Every time she brought up money, it felt like he couldn’t breathe.
After ending the call, Yeonwoo lay on the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Later that day, the housekeeper from the apartment dropped by with some food and side dishes. They exchanged a quick greeting, but said little else.
The housekeeper, who used to be warm and talkative when they lived in Chahyun’s apartment, was oddly quiet today.
Yeonwoo spent the rest of the day waiting for Chahyun to come home.
But 7 p.m. passed. Then 9. Then midnight. Still, Chahyun didn’t return. No calls, no messages.
Yeonwoo sat in the dim living room, staring at the closed front door.
“What the hell is he doing?”
He muttered blankly. He had waited the whole day, thinking that maybe he could try to talk things through, find a way to smooth things over. But now an entire day had slipped away.
He had assumed, at the very least, that Chahyun would show up after work.
Left alone in this lifeless space, his mood sank to the floor.
Why? Was it because he’d heard about the marriage?
As that thought surfaced, an image grew in Yeonwoo’s mind—of Chahyun smiling beside his fiancée, spending time with her.
“Getting married doesn’t mean I’m breaking up with you.”
“Nothing’s going to change. This house, me—I’ll still be here.”
Chahyun had spoken of marriage as if it were nothing. But Yeonwoo knew better than anyone how untrue that was.
Born out of wedlock, Yeonwoo had witnessed firsthand the treatment his mother endured from society.
Naively trusting a man who had pretended to be single, she gave birth to and raised Yeonwoo alone, suffering through whispered slurs and blatant scorn. No matter where she went, people whispered behind her back—“filthy woman.”
“She was sleeping with a married man, right?”
“Then she’s a mistress? Shameless.”
“How can she have a baby with someone else’s husband and act like it’s nothing?”
And yet, the father who deceived her and refused to take responsibility never received any of that blame. Instead, the shame and the slurs fell squarely on Yeonwoo and his mother—labels like "filthy woman" and "illegitimate child" that only peeled away after their parents finally registered their marriage when Yeonwoo was nine.
That’s how the world worked. No one cared about the details. Only how things looked on the surface.
Maybe Chahyun, on some instinctual level, understood that—how little responsibility he would truly bear. And in the end, Yeonwoo would be left carrying all the cost of this compromise.
The betrayal stung—knowing that of all people, it was Chahyun who would willingly place him in such a degrading position.
“……”
Lost in dark thoughts, Yeonwoo passed the night sitting in front of the door. But it never opened—not until dawn’s light seeped in.
***
The third day of being restricted from going outside.
Yeonwoo tried reporting it to the police again. This time, the men guarding the door confiscated his phone altogether.
"Give me back my phone."
"I’m afraid we can’t do that right now."
"I said give it back!"
"……"
No response. Yeonwoo banged on the door and shouted, but the door wouldn’t open. And now, he had no way to contact anyone.
Just like that, Yeonwoo became completely cut off inside the officetel.
Only now did the full gravity of the situation sink in. He could no longer rely on luck or hope to get out of here. That illusion shattered.
Chahyun really meant to keep him trapped here until his heat cycle passed.
After hours of a standoff at the door, Yeonwoo gave up and returned to the living room, drained. During a brief scuffle with the bodyguards, his wrist had been scraped against the doorknob, leaving a faint scratch.
Yeonwoo rubbed the spot absentmindedly, staring at it in a daze.