The next morning, the dorm was buzzing like a shaken soda can. Hair dryers screamed in the background, the smell of hairspray clung to the air, and half-dressed trainees darted around with curlers in their hair and protein bars clamped between their teeth. Someone's makeup bag had already exploded across the floor, and another girl was crying because she couldn't find her stage shoes.
It was chaos.
Loud.
Messy.
Excitable chaos.
Everyone was hyped for the announcement of the second battle stage.
Everyone… except Rika.
She sat frozen at the edge of her bed, clutching her water bottle so tightly it crinkled in her hand. Her lips were still tender and swollen, her neck tingling faintly where Daika's teeth had branded her the night before. She'd scrubbed her skin raw in the shower—twice—but the faint bloom of red refused to fade. Every time she caught sight of it in the mirror, shame punched through her chest like a fist.
God. What if the cameras catch it? What if the other girls notice?
They'll think I… I let her…
Her stomach twisted. She buried her face in her hoodie sleeve, hoping the heat in her cheeks would disappear before anyone saw.
"Morning, kitten."
Her whole body jerked.
That voice. That smug, lazy, cocky voice.
Daika strolled into the room like she owned it, towel slung casually around her neck, her uniform shirt hanging loose with half the buttons undone. Her damp hair fell over her shoulders in glossy waves, droplets of water sliding down the curve of her collarbone and sinking into the fabric. She smelled fresh out of the shower, soap, shampoo, and underneath it all, that dark, commanding Alpha musk that Rika's blockers weren't masking nearly enough against.
Rika zipped her hoodie all the way up to her chin, burying half her face in the collar. "D-Don't call me that!"
Daika leaned against the doorframe, smirk curling like she had all the time in the world.
"Why not? You purred for me last night."
Rika almost spat her water across the room. "I DID NOT!" she squeaked, voice breaking halfway.
One of the other girls glanced over, brows arched, but Rika forced a smile and waved her off quickly. "Just.....just practicing lines! Ha ha! Acting!"
Daika chuckled low, amused at her panic. She pushed off the wall and sauntered closer, crossing the room one slow, heavy step at a time. "Hmm," she drawled, "then what was that cute little sound when I—"
"Shut UP!" Rika squealed, slapping her hands over her ears before the Alpha could finish. Her whole body felt like it was about to combust.
But Daika only tilted her head, hair dripping onto the floor as she leaned down. "Sensitive," she whispered, just for Rika.
Before Rika could combust on the spot, the dorm intercom crackled.
"Attention trainees. Report to the main hall for the second battle stage announcement."
Instant chaos erupted again. Girls screamed, shoes flew across the room, someone yelled that her eyeliner was missing, and a couple of trainees shoved each other out the door in their rush to get there first.
Rika seized the chance, springing up from her bed and bolting for the hallway. If she could just get out ahead of Daika—
But of course, Daika was faster.
A hand slammed against the wall beside her head, blocking her exit. The impact was sharp enough to make the wood tremble. Rika froze, eyes wide, as Daika leaned in close, her smirk carved like sin.
"Careful, kitten," she murmured, voice pitched low and dangerous so no one else could overhear. "The more you run… the sweeter you smell."
Rika's pulse thundered in her ears. She could practically feel her scent leaking through, could see the glimmer in Daika's eyes that confirmed it.
Her secret was dangling by a single, fragile thread, ready to snap.
And with the second stage looming… she wasn't sure if she could hold herself together
especially with Daika stalking her every step.
The main hall was a storm of camera flashes and nervous chatter. Rows of glossy black chairs stretched across the floor, each one marked with the name of a trainee. A massive LED screen loomed overhead, pulsing with dramatic graphics:
"Battle Stage Two: Rival Units."
The words alone sent a wave of whispers through the room. Rival units meant face-to-face competition. Fewer chances to hide. Less room to breathe.
Rika slid into her seat, trying to keep her hoodie zipped high and her head down. Her heartbeat rattled in her chest like dice in a cup. She hadn't even recovered from last night, hadn't stopped thinking about Daika's mouth against her neck, her breath against her skin!!!
"Scared?"
The whisper brushed against her ear before she even realized Daika had slipped into the chair beside her. Too close. Way too close.
Rika flinched, jerking her gaze forward. "I'm fine," she hissed under her breath, fingers digging into the fabric of her hoodie.
Daika leaned back lazily, spreading her legs, the picture of Alpha confidence even under the sharp glare of the stage lights. "Good. Because the game just got cruel."
Rika blinked at her, confusion flickering—until the MC's voice boomed across the hall.
"Trainees! This round, the judges have prepared four songs. Each unit will be split into rival groups, and you'll battle head-to-head with the exact same track."
Gasps rippled through the audience. Girls leaned forward in their seats, eyes wide. Some clutched each other's hands, others whispered frantically.
The MC lifted a card with a flourish. "For the first match… Team Daika versus Team Rika."
Rika's stomach dropped through the floor.
Her name. On the same card. Against Daika.
The crowd erupted in excited screams, already buzzing over the matchup. Rivalries were good TV. Alpha leader versus timid underdog? Even better.
Rika's throat closed up. She couldn't breathe, couldn't even blink.
Beside her, Daika chuckled low, eyes glinting. She didn't even look surprised. "Looks like fate has a sense of humor," she murmured.
"Th-this isn't funny!" Rika whispered frantically, clutching her knees under the table.
Daika tilted her head, gaze fixed on the stage but voice slicing right through Rika. "Oh, kitten. It's hilarious. Because now you can't hide behind me. You'll have to stand in front of me—" she paused, lips curving into a dangerous smirk, "and prove you're not just my little Omega in disguise."
Rika's chest constricted. She wanted to scream at her, shove her, anything. But the cameras were rolling. The MC was still talking. And every eye in the room was fixed on them.
She forced her expression into something neutral, nodding along as though she was paying attention to the instructions. Inside, though, her mind was collapsing.
She's my rival now. She's going to push me until I break. She knows too much. She's too close. If I lose… if I slip… everyone will know.
The MC's words thundered like a gavel:
"Prepare yourselves. The next stage begins in three days."
The hall erupted again. Cheers. Nervous cries. The clatter of chairs as trainees scrambled to find their new teammates.
Rika stayed frozen, her hands cold and clammy against her thighs.
Daika finally rose from her seat, stretching like a cat, slow and deliberate. She glanced down at Rika, her smirk softening into something sharper, hungrier.
"Three days, kitten," she murmured. "Better pray your body doesn't betray you before then."
And then she was gone already swallowed by the crowd of girls rushing to plan their strategies, while Rika sat rooted in place, heart pounding, the weight of three days pressing down like a death sentence.
The dorm lounge was chaos.
Trainees scattered across the sofas, clutching lyric sheets, humming melodies under their breath, arguing over lines. Everyone wanted the center position. Everyone wanted to shine.
Rika sat on the edge of the couch, hands clutching the papers so tightly the edges crumpled. Her new teammates huddled around her—two bright-eyed Betas and one nervous Alpha who wouldn't stop pacing.
"We can't lose to them," the Alpha muttered for the fifth time, chewing her lip. "If Daika's leading the other team, she'll crush us. She's a natural on stage. And… well, she's Daika."
The two Betas nodded in unison, their voices rising in anxious agreement.
Rika tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. Her teammates were looking to her—because her name was on the card too. This was her unit.
"I-I'll do my best," she managed, forcing a shaky smile. "We just… we have to find the right balance. If we work together—"
"Balance doesn't beat Daika," the pacing Alpha cut her off sharply. "She'll steal the stage no matter what. We need to hit harder than her. Be sharper. Louder."
Her words stabbed into Rika like tiny knives. She didn't need the reminder. She knew better than anyone how dangerous Daika was on stage, and off.
"Y-yeah…" Rika muttered, staring down at her lyrics until the words blurred.
A sharp sound cut through the chatter. The lounge door swung open.
Daika walked in.
Her rival team trailed behind her, but it didn't matter—Daika was the only one the room noticed. Her towel-dried hair framed her sharp jawline, her long legs carried her with effortless confidence, and her smirk was already loaded, ready to fire.
The room stilled.
Rika's heart stuttered violently.
Daika's gaze swept over the lounge, slow and deliberate, until it landed right on her. The smirk widened.
"Relax, everyone," Daika drawled, tossing her bag onto the floor. "We're not here to spy. Just passing through."
But her eyes never left Rika's.
Heat crawled up Rika's neck. She snapped her attention back to the lyric sheet, pretending to read.
Her teammates weren't fooled. The nervous Alpha leaned close, whispering frantically, "She's staring at you. Why is she staring at you?"
"I-I don't know!" Rika squeaked, wishing she could melt into the couch.
Daika chuckled softly across the room, clearly amused by her struggle. Then, as if to seal the torment, she called out loud enough for everyone to hear:
"Try not to choke out there, kitten. I'd hate to see you embarrass yourself."
A ripple of laughter swept through the lounge. Not cruel, just amused, everyone assumed it was the usual Daika teasing.
But Rika froze. Kitten. She'd only ever used that word in private.
Her teammates blinked, curious but oblivious. "Kitten? That's… weird. Is that a nickname?"
Rika's ears burned so hot she thought they might ignite. "N-no! She's just being… Daika!" she stammered, waving her hands.
Daika winked before finally sweeping out of the lounge, her team trailing behind like obedient shadows.
The second she was gone, the air returned, and Rika slumped forward, burying her face in her hands.
Three days.
Three days of this.
How was she supposed to focus on lyrics, choreography, anything, when Daika was determined to unravel her in public?
Her chest tightened painfully. For the first time since the announcement, the thought hit her like a punch to the gut:
If I don't get myself under control, I'm not just going to lose this battle… I'm going to expose everything.
The rehearsal hall was quiet at last. Two out of the three days had quickly gone by.
Most trainees had already dragged themselves back to the dorms, voices hoarse from endless practice. Only the faint hum of the stage lights remained, buzzing softly in the empty room.
Rika sat alone on the floor, legs folded, clutching her lyric sheet to her chest. Her throat ached, her body screamed for rest, but her mind refused to stop spinning.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, she'd face Daika on stage. In front of the judges. In front of the cameras. In front of the world.
And if she slipped, even for a second, if her pheromones betrayed her like before, her secret could be over.
Her fists clenched tighter around the paper. I can't let that happen. Not here. Not now.
"Late-night practice?"
The voice slid into the room like silk, smooth and knowing.
Rika's stomach dropped.
Daika leaned casually against the mirror wall, still in her rehearsal clothes, a towel draped around her neck. Her hair stuck to her temples with sweat, but even exhaustion couldn't dull the sharp gleam in her eyes.
Rika scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over her own sheet. "W-what are you doing here?"
Daika smirked, strolling closer, each step deliberate. "Same as you. Making sure tomorrow goes… perfectly."
Rika backed up instinctively, but the wall caught her sooner than expected. Her pulse raced.
"You shouldn't be here," she muttered, hugging her papers to her chest like they could shield her. "We're supposed to be rivals."
"Mmm," Daika purred, tilting her head. "And what's more fun than rivals sneaking around the night before battle?"
Her scent, clean sweat, sharp Alpha musk seeped into the air, mixing dangerously with Rika's blockers. Rika held her breath, praying it wouldn't crack.
Daika leaned close, her lips brushing Rika's ear. "You smell nervous, kitten."
Rika flinched. "S-stop calling me that! People will notice"
"No one's here." Daika's voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Just me… and my little Omega."
Heat slammed through Rika's body, shameful and unbidden. Her knees trembled.
Daika chuckled, clearly sensing it. "Relax. I'm not going to ruin your pretty secret tonight. Tomorrow's stage will be enough. I want to see you trembling in the spotlight again… all eyes on you, all heat on you. Let's see how long you last."
Rika's throat closed. Her body screamed at her to push Daika away, to shout, to fight back. But the words wouldn't come.
Instead, Daika pulled back with a lazy grin, spinning on her heel like nothing had happened. "Get some sleep, kitten. Tomorrow… I'll make the whole stage yours."
Her smirk darkened. "Whether you like it or not."
And then she was gone, leaving Rika trembling against the wall, her lyric sheet crumpled and her heart beating so loud it drowned out the buzzing lights.
Tomorrow would decide everything.
Her voice. Her secret. Her future.
And Daika was waiting to tear it all apart.