Jinhyeok knew the moment control began to slip.
It wasn't dramatic.
There was no sudden collapse or obvious reaction.
It was subtle—too subtle.
A faint warmth spread beneath his ribs as he sat motionless at his desk, eyes fixed on the board while the instructor droned on about academy regulations. His wrist device pulsed once. Then again.
He didn't look down.
Looking would make it real.
"Alpha students are expected to lead by example," the instructor said. "Any violations will be recorded permanently."
Jinhyeok swallowed.
Permanent records were dangerous.
He shifted slightly, adjusting his posture, forcing his breathing into a slow, even rhythm. The suppressant was supposed to last twelve hours. He had injected it less than three ago.
So why…
"Seo Jinhyeok."
His name snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Yes?" he answered immediately.
The instructor eyed him. "You'll be class representative for Alpha Class A."
Murmurs spread through the room.
Jinhyeok nodded once. "Understood."
That was the problem.
No hesitation.
No refusal.
Too perfect.
Across the room, Li Akira Moon watched quietly.
Akira didn't say anything, but Jinhyeok felt the weight of his gaze like pressure against his skin. He hated that—hated how aware he suddenly was of every movement, every breath.
Stop reacting.
Akira looked away first.
That didn't help.
Lunch was worse.
The cafeteria was divided naturally—Alphas at the center tables, Betas around the edges, Omegas near the walls or private rooms. The hierarchy was unspoken but absolute.
Jinhyeok sat with the Alphas.
Park Ren Ito dropped into the seat beside him, grinning. "Representative already? You didn't even try to be subtle."
"I didn't ask for it," Jinhyeok replied flatly.
Ren laughed. "That's what makes it annoying."
Ren was an Alpha—loud, confident, dangerous in a careless way. His scent was sharp and dominant, the kind that made weaker Omegas flinch.
Usually, it didn't bother Jinhyeok.
Today, it made his stomach twist.
"You okay?" Ren asked, lowering his voice slightly. "You look tense."
"I'm fine."
Lie.
Ren leaned closer. "You sure? You're not reacting right."
Jinhyeok stiffened. "What does that mean?"
Ren shrugged. "Normally you'd tell me to shut up by now."
Jinhyeok pushed his tray away. "I lost my appetite."
As he stood, his eyes betrayed him.
They flicked—just once—toward the edge of the cafeteria.
Li Akira Moon sat alone, eating quietly, a book open beside his tray.
Beta.
That was what the badge said.
But no Beta made an Alpha's suppressants fail.
Jinhyeok turned away abruptly and headed for the restroom.
The door locked behind him.
He braced both hands against the sink, breathing hard.
"This is bad," he whispered.
The device on his wrist lit up red.
Warning: Scent distortion detected.
Recommendation: immediate stabilizer injection.
He laughed softly, humorless.
"Already?"
His hands shook as he pulled the injector from his pocket. The needle pierced his skin, flooding him with cold relief.
For a moment, the heat eased.
Then—
A knock on the door.
"Hey," a voice called gently. "Are you inside?"
Jinhyeok froze.
Akira.
"I'll be out in a minute," Jinhyeok snapped.
There was a pause.
"…Your scent changed," Akira said quietly.
Jinhyeok's blood ran cold.
"What?"
"I didn't mean it like that," Akira continued quickly. "I just—earlier you smelled… different."
Silence pressed down between them.
No Beta should be able to say that.
Jinhyeok opened the door sharply.
Akira stood there, calm as ever, eyes unreadable.
"Betas don't sense scents that way," Jinhyeok said coldly.
Akira met his gaze. "Then maybe I'm not normal."
The words were light.
The implication was not.
Jinhyeok stepped closer without realizing it. "You should be careful what you say."
Akira didn't move back. "Why?"
Because if you're right, you're in danger.
Because if I'm wrong, I'm already lost.
Instead, Jinhyeok said, "Because people talk."
Akira studied him for a long moment.
Then he smiled faintly. "You're strange, Seo Jinhyeok."
Jinhyeok's jaw tightened. "Don't get familiar."
"Too late," Akira replied softly.
As he walked away, Jinhyeok noticed something on Akira's wrist.
A faint mark.
Almost invisible.
Almost like—
No.
Jinhyeok staggered back into the restroom, heart pounding violently.
That mark…
It mirrored the one hidden beneath his own sleeve.
That night, he didn't sleep.
When he finally closed his eyes, memory surged forward uninvited.
A child's voice, shaking.
"If they find out, they'll separate us."
Another voice—his own, younger, desperate.
"Then I'll become someone they can't touch."
Silver eyes reflected in a hospital window.
A needle.
A scream swallowed by white walls.
Jinhyeok woke with a gasp, his sheets twisted around him.
His device blinked urgently.
Critical alert: bond resonance detected.
He stared at the screen.
Bond.
Impossible.
Forbidden.
And yet—
His door buzzed.
A message flashed across his comm.
Li Akira Moon:
Why do I feel like I've known you before?
Jinhyeok's hands clenched.
Because you have.
Because we shouldn't have.
Because they erased it.
He deleted the message without replying.
But his body betrayed him.
His scent shifted—soft, unmistakable.
Omega.
And somewhere in the academy, Li Akira Moon inhaled sharply, heart racing for reasons he didn't yet understand.