DHG Ch 7

Kwon Heewoo, slumped on the floor, was frozen as if struck by shock. After a brief moment passed, his tightly sealed lips parted.

“…That guy isn’t something like my lover.”

It was the first time hearing his voice. He had kept his mouth shut like a clam all this time, acting so lofty, and only now did he let out a sound.

Even then, his tone was somewhat resolute. Kwon Heewoo’s voice continued.

“Precious… no, he’s not. That guy didn’t cling to me.”

Heewoo bit down on his trembling molars. It wasn’t because of the soaked clothes sticking coldly to his skin. What chilled him was the blood of his twin staining him, and now the boot aimed at him felt eerie.

He was scared. His twin showed no signs of movement—dead or alive, he couldn’t tell. And just moments ago, he’d heard that the man in front of him had even sliced open Kim Jinhwan’s stomach…

Kim Jinhwan.

His thoughts slipped back to events from a few minutes ago. Why had he really come looking for him? Thinking back, it seemed like his upper body had been drenched in blood. Was it all his own blood?

Having fled, Heewoo had no way of knowing what had happened to Kim Jinhwan afterward.

He snapped back to reality because he felt eyes on him. A man with an overwhelming presence—so strong it could erase any impression of Kim Jinhwan—walked toward him with deliberate steps.

“…!”

A gaze sharp enough to pierce his cheek landed squarely on his face. It was so persistent that Heewoo could feel its path across his skin. Water kept dripping from his wet hair, rolling down his cheek, past his tilted jaw, and into the collar of his shirt.

Following the man’s gaze, Heewoo’s eyes dropped to his own chest. The old T-shirt he wore for sleeping was soaked through, clinging tightly to his upper body. His round, swollen nipples stood out starkly.

He looks like an omega.

Suddenly, it felt as if the man’s comment overlapped with the moment. Heewoo hurriedly turned his body to hide himself, hunching his shoulders.

“…”

Despite his desperate attempts to avoid that penetrating stare, it was futile. In the end, Heewoo wrapped his arms around his elbows, covering his chest as if he were cold.

He wanted to hide his sweat-drenched nape too. In truth, Heewoo remembered the first time he’d met this man—how his hand had brushed against his nape. He recalled the sticky touch that had rubbed along his collarbone as if stealing a necklace before pulling away.

The heat that hadn’t left him for days seemed to flare up again. Was it because his body wasn’t in a normal state? Suddenly, Heewoo felt an urge to shout in fierce protest.

Stop looking at me. Don’t look at me like that. He wanted to yell. It was as if he were a cornered rat, the impulse surging within him, only to be forcibly suppressed.

The man, who had been dissecting Heewoo with his gaze alone, twisted his lips.

“Not just that bastard Kim Jinhwan, huh?”

Jang Seungyung stepped closer to the trembling, drenched figure. He ignored the arms shielding Heewoo’s chest as if they weren’t even there. Slipping his hand easily under those twig-like arms, he grabbed the hidden nipple through the fabric. He seized the plump flesh that had been annoyingly prominent all this time, twisting it as if to crush it.

“Couldn’t even wait that long and hooked up with another bastard too?”

Upon closer inspection, it became clear. The pheromones covering him weren’t from just one source. Beyond Kim Jinhwan’s pheromones, there were traces of Kang Manager’s—now a bloody mess over there—mixed in as well. He’d claimed to be Kim Jinhwan’s lover, yet he was drenched in the pheromones of multiple men.

Heewoo clenched his jaw against the rough grip. The small, soft flesh was being mercilessly kneaded, but even that pain faded momentarily. It was because the man suddenly unleashed his pheromones.

“…!”

In that instant, Heewoo realized the man was a dominant alpha. He’d never encountered an alpha who could wield such a massive amount of pheromones so skillfully. Even after smothering Heewoo’s entire body, the man layered more pheromones between his chest and groin. It was a humiliating, almost comical display—something any trait bearer would dread witnessing.

It was an extension of the countless abuses he’d suffered at Kim Jinhwan’s hands—a curiosity-driven act steeped in violence and molestation.

I can’t let him know I’ve noticed the pheromone shower.

To pretend he was a clueless beta, to suppress any chance of his own pheromones reacting, Heewoo poured all his focus into it.

The strength gradually drained from his hands. He could feel his nipples swelling even more in response to the man’s pheromones. A deep, damp heat pooled in his lower body. Being treated worse than a prostitute, yet reacting because he was an omega—thankfully, at least he could still hide his own pheromones.

“Are you pushing me away, or begging me to touch you? At this rate, I might just dig my nails in.”

A mocking taunt followed as Heewoo grabbed the man’s wrist, unable to bear the pain. He felt foolish for briefly seeing this man as a savior. Kim Jinhwan or this guy—they were the same.

No, this was worse. At least Kim Jinhwan hadn’t assaulted him after just one or two meetings.

The heat that had tormented him for days faded, leaving Heewoo cold. A chill consumed him. The unreleased pheromones ached within him, but there was nothing he could do.

He couldn’t even resist the grip crushing his nonexistent chest. The arms he’d used to defend himself had long gone limp. He’d forgotten the shard of glass he’d been clutching. The pain flowed through him, numb and familiar, as he waited for time to pass, frozen like a fish on ice.

“…”

Even then, Jang Seungyung didn’t take his eyes off Heewoo. The pale face looked consistently exhausted and drained, unusually so for his age.

“He really doesn’t know.”

Hearing the man’s mutter, Heewoo understood its meaning. A beta. Someone who couldn’t detect the pheromone shower or react to it with pheromones of their own.

Only then did the brutal grip on his chest release. Heewoo mulled over the man’s words expressionlessly. Had he harassed him just to test if he was an omega? In the past, he might have cried like a fool. But now, a faint sense of relief came first. Relief that he hadn’t been found out.

Yet deep in his chest, an unidentifiable pain throbbed. The stinging sensation was shock. A sudden feeling of being lost, or as if he’d been slapped out of nowhere on the street.

What moved Heewoo then was habit. The compulsion ingrained in his body drove his limbs. Hiding his empty gaze, he began to move little by little. He quietly slipped away from the dangerous place.

As if nothing had happened, he left the scene. Moving far from the man, he passed by his shadowy entourage and crossed the threshold.

Is it over?

It wasn’t a big deal. Compared to everything he’d been through, it really wasn’t.

It truly wasn’t a big deal… so why was he so shaken?

Silently, Heewoo closed the warehouse door. He rubbed at the still-stinging ache inside him, then suddenly raised his hand at a sharp sensation.

A slanted cut marred his skin, as if the glass shard had dug in. He hadn’t even noticed it was bleeding. The sharp piece he’d intended to use against someone had ended up wounding him instead.

The small pain he noticed offhandedly sparked like a flame, instantly awakening his entire body’s senses. It hurt. It hurt so much he felt like he might die.

The faint fever he’d been suppressing out of survival instinct overwhelmed him. His vision flipped with a ringing in his ears. The glass shard he’d been holding until then dropped to the floor with a thud. In the silent emptiness, his frail body collapsed.

✮⋆˙

‘Oh my, you’re not Heeran, are you?’

It was when Heewoo was seven years old. On weekends, his mom would emerge from her dark room and insist on visiting the bathhouse. Heewoo, toddling behind her to keep up with the bag of bath supplies she carried, widened his eyes. A strange woman had stopped his mom.

‘Goodness, how long has it been! Is that your daughter behind you? Or your son?

He looks just like you! the woman exclaimed. Heewoo’s small mouth dropped open.

Since he’d started kindergarten, his mom had insisted he not call her “Mom.” “Sister” or “pretty sister” were the only acceptable terms for her.

‘Let’s go!’

His mom completely ignored the woman. Pushing Heewoo’s back, she urged him to walk faster. Her bare face, free of makeup after the sauna, twisted with anxiety.

Only then did the strange woman look at Heewoo again. She eyed the toddler hat covered in luxury brand logos and the short lemon-yellow crop top his mom had handed down to him.

“Aren’t you going to walk faster?” his mom shouted. As Heewoo scurried after her like he was running, the woman’s odd stare lingered in his mind.

He learned the woman’s identity a week later.

‘My Malsuk heard it from her.’

A woman claiming to be his maternal grandmother showed up.

It turned out the woman was someone who’d scammed his grandmother and run off. To settle her debts, she’d contacted his grandmother and spilled every detail about her long-lost daughter. Heewoo stared blankly at this grandmother he hadn’t even known existed.

‘Your dad?’

The grandmother gestured at Heewoo with her eyes.