Taras held Le An's gaze for a long moment, as if searching for confirmation of what he already suspected. The reason this omega was so incapable of using his defiance as a weapon was because, in the end, he was even more powerless than Taras had thought. Just a puppet in other people's hands.
"I told you we'd talk after that night," Taras said coolly. When Le An nodded, eyes drifting back down to the stitches on Taras's abdomen, Taras added, "But it seems we don't need to. Looks like you decided to listen to me after all."
Le An lifted his head, forcing his eyes up to Taras again. "I…"
Taras cut him off. "You could have tried to rat me out back then. You could have exposed me."
"Yes, but I didn't," Le An said quickly. "Your friend- after what he told me…" Le An's eyelids were closing again, his hand rubbing at them roughly as if trying to stay awake. He looked at Taras as if he could barely see him. He wanted to say I thought it was the right thing to do, but Taras's cold voice shut him down.
"You did the right thing," Taras said, his tone dripping with mock approval. "Otherwise, your precious esper guard and the others… they would've seen what happens when people get in my way."
Le An swallowed hard at that, glancing away. "I can't say I'm not surprised," Taras went on, watching the omega's head droop against the headboard. "W-why?" Le An murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "Because you won't get a chance like that again. You wasted your last one."
"If you'd gone into a rampage," Le An mumbled, his fingers unconsciously brushing the shoulder where he'd kicked him that day, "we all would've died…" His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, then he forced them open, looking right at Taras's face. He pointed weakly, not daring to get any closer. "I saved your life."
Taras didn't answer. But it was true, whatever impulse had made him drag himself here half-dead, he didn't even understand it himself. When he'd woken up in this room, he'd realized everything all at once. And thanks to Maxim's big mouth, everything he hadn't planned to share had spilled out while he was unconscious.
Taras briefly wondered what Le An must be thinking now that he knew about the outskirts. But then again, no, his thoughts didn't matter to Taras anyway. He snapped out of that thought when he noticed the expectant look on Le An's face. Taras let out a small, mocking laugh.
"What? You want a thank you?"
"No," Le An blurted out immediately, that hopeful look vanishing like a frightened animal darting back into its burrow. The way he shrank back reminded Taras of a cornered thing that knew better than to ask for kindness.
"But you think you deserve one, don't you?" Taras pushed, leaning in. Le An blinked at him, brows furrowed as if the sentence was too big to process. "I don't understand," he mumbled, curling tighter against the pillow.
"Do you think you deserve thanks for saving my life?" Taras asked again, tempted to flick him on the forehead just to keep him conscious. Le An's mind was slipping, but his answers were getting more and more honest.
Le An hesitated, then murmured in a fragile voice, "If I did… then thank me. I think I did."
"Hah." Taras let out a dry chuckle, shifting where he sat. He felt a flicker of something unfamiliar slide through him, interest, maybe. It was true: when Le An's mind was clouded like this, his words were stripped bare, honest in a way they never were otherwise.
Taras leaned in, closer to where the omega curled up like a fragile rabbit. "You do deserve some credit for doing the right thing," he murmured down at him.
Le An's eyes drifted over Taras's face, lingering on the loose hair falling over his forehead. He frowned, confused. "Is this… how you say thank you to people?"
His fingers combed absently through his own hair, a thin bead of sweat trailing down the curve of his neck to vanish into the pillow. Taras's eyes tracked the droplet until it disappeared. The sight made something cold twist deeper in his chest.
"That friend of yours…Maxim. Must be your only friend," Le An mumbled, completely unaware of what he was saying.
Le An thought he heard a scoff slip from his lips. Taras, on the other hand, wondered if the treasure even knew what he was saying anymore. Le An's eyes were heavy, the room spinning around him. "No one would accept your thanks. You'd have to beg first…"
Taras narrowed his eyes, a bitter edge creeping in. "You people are bold enough always to expect something back, aren't you? A simple thank-you is never enough. So, what is it you want in return?"
He glared down at Le An, feeling his patience fray. The omega just stared up at him, dazed, eyes glassy. He was clearly struggling to keep his thoughts together. No other omega would be this weak at the start of heat, but the treasure seemed extra fragile.
Le An's unfocused eyes drifted to Taras's. You people, he repeated to himself inside his head. The words sank like a bruise. Were those eyes too close to him? He couldn't be sure. His hands twitched with the urge to reach for them, but he held himself back; he wasn't in any state to defend himself right now.
But then again, Le An had never really chosen which side he'd stand on… If only he'd been able to choose. If only he'd known…
He looked at Taras, curious in the middle of his haze. Taras stared back, expressionless. Le An felt his chest squeeze at that coldness. To him, Taras's face seemed to say, What more do you want from me? Bold of you to still ask for things when you already have everything. The thought made him feel sick, so he stumbled for an escape. "N-nothing," he stammered at last.
"Very well," Taras murmured, watching him try so hard not to look at him now. He wondered if he should push him more, but leaning closer only let the omega's pheromones flood his head, sweet and suffocating. He pulled away, pressing a hand to his nose to block it out.
Le An watched him blankly. There was an expression on his face, as if he were afraid of falling asleep before Taras left. Why wasn't Taras leaving? "Go…" he whispered, desperation cracking his voice. "Go so… I can sleep."
"Are you giving me orders now?" Taras asked, his voice sharp.
"I…" Le An tried to resist, but Taras's cold smile silenced him instantly.
"Ha." A cold smirk tugged at Taras's lips. "Brave of you. Acting like you can tell me what to do tonight."
Le An just stared at his mouth, at the smile that never meant anything good. His eyes were red from rubbing them so much, his face a mess of agitation and exhaustion. He looked like he was about to beg. It made something unpleasant curdle in Taras's chest.
That look deepened. Taras could now hear the frantic drum of Le An's heart, like a rabbit cornered in the dark.
Finally, Le An's lips parted in a breathy confession. "I don't… I don't know how I'm supposed to act!" His voice cracked, honesty spilling out raw. Taras was caught off guard for the first time. He could smell the stress radiating off the omega's pheromones, thick and sharp.
"Y-you're too cruel… No one... would ever want to... ha, be your enemy. I- I never wanted any of this. If I knew, if I'd known- hic…"
Silent tears rolled down Le An's cheeks. Taras felt his breath catch, rage bubbling under his skin. "Shut up," he hissed, voice like a snarl. You don't even know what you've done, what you've caused…
"Shut up," he growled again. But Le An didn't even hear him. His eyes were shut tight now, trembling breaths were the only sign he was still there, crying so quietly, as if he didn't want to bother anyone with his tears.
"I'm sorry… s-sorry…" Le An mumbled. Not even knowing what he was apologizing for. Taras couldn't stand it. This helpless thing, this… evil thing. Evil? Taras looked at the face in front of him, then tore his eyes away, unable to bear looking any longer.
His patience snapped. Without another word, he let his form melt into shadow, dissolving into the darkness. Le An, half-lost already, never even knew if he'd gone. He just kept crying silently, his exhausted body finally giving out. Le An drifted off, his mind slipping away into uneasy sleep.
But even if Le An didn't know it, the shadow was still there.
Near the room, Taras heard two whispers beside their presence, just as he was about to dissolve into the shadows. One phrase caught his attention and stirred his curiosity:
"How many doses of medication does it take to completely cloud his consciousness?
"Every three hours..."
It was the voice of the treasure's esper guard. The shadow lingered hesitantly in the room as the owners of the whispers approached the door. Clouding his consciousness? The shadow looked at Le An. The tug between curiosity and the urge to vanish pulled him from both sides.
Taking its thinnest, darkest, and most invisible form, the shadow slipped on to Le An's bed, right behind his back.
A little later, footsteps, first in the room, then approaching the pheromone chamber, were heard.
"Le An?" It was Theo.