Jaemin was the first to break contact. Pulling his hand back as if burned, he scrambled to his feet, and practically bolted for the sanctuary of his office without a word.
Do-hyun, driven by a desperate, new kind of fury, a raw need for an explanation, didn't hesitate. He threw his violin into its case and gave chase, his long legs swallowing up the distance to Jaemin's office in a few powerful strides.
He needed answers. He needed to know what just happened. He was not letting this man get away.
He reached the office just as Jaemin rushed inside, hands trembling uncontrollably on the doorframe as he tried to close it behind him. Do-hyun lunged, using his foot to block the door just before it could shut. The door flew open and Do-hyun burst inside, his scent of furious cedar flooding the small space.
Jaemin stumbled back, a picture of pure panic. "Ka–Kang Do-hyun," he said, his voice shaking. "Let's talk about this later. You need to calm down."
"Don't you dare tell me to calm down," Do-hyun snarled, his voice dangerously low. His gaze was fixed on Jaemin's hands. "What was that? Out there. The touch. I felt it. What did you do?"
Jaemin took a step back, his eyes wide with fear. "I didn't do anything. It was an accident. We were both reaching for the same thing."
Do-hyun's jaw tightened. "Don't lie to me. That touch... It felt like my instincts were on fire." He felt a flash of desperation. He felt like he was on the verge of admitting to something he didn't even understand to the man in front of him. "What was that?? What did you do?!"
"I didn't do anything!" Jaemin repeated, his voice sharp with a sudden, desperate anger. "It's—It was just the music."
"No!" Rage flaring, Do-hyun roared, "You asked for me to follow you, to trust you, and I submitted! I gave you control of my orchestra, and you try to manipulate me with tricks? Then you stand here and lie to my face!"
He slammed his hand on the desk, a loud bang that echoed through the room. The force of it made Jaemin flinch, body trembling violently, and in that moment, the subtle sandalwood that had been his shield suddenly gave way under the surge of his distress.
Cloying, sweet florals, a scent that Do-hyun had never expected, permeated the air, hitting him with the force of a physical blow.
Mind reeling from the chaos in his senses, Do-hyun stared at Jaemin, his heart hammering against his ribs. A primal shock, a profound and utter confusion, flooded his senses.
He was an alpha. His nose didn't lie. He had just smelled what shouldn't have been there.
Cherry blossoms. The pheromones of an omega.
As Do-hyun's furious cedar scent exploded the small office in response, Jaemin's body screamed in protest. Another wave of gut-wrenching nausea hit him, and a cold sweat broke out across his skin. His stomach clenched violently, a betrayal of his own instincts.
Do-hyun rasped, "What… was that?"
Jaemin shook, now a frozen portrait of terror. He said nothing, only shrank away, his hands held up in a futile gesture of surrender as he tried not to retch.
A cold, hard certainty settled in Do-hyun's gut, a reaction to the lie he'd just uncovered, even as he repeated in a dangerously low voice, "Seo Jaemin… What was that?"
Sensing danger, Jaemin's body moved on instinct and made a frantic dash for the exit, only for Do-hyun to lunge, cutting off his escape and slamming the office door shut.
"Don't you dare," Do-hyun snarled, his voice a growl that resonated with his own rising fury. He caught a whiff of the sandalwood cologne that Jaemin used, now laced with the sweet florals of an omega and his distress, and felt his rage swell against the taunt, a symbol of the deception.
This was not just a conductor who held an impossible key to the orchestra's harmony. This was an omega, in disguise, walking a tightrope of deception and power, with Do-hyun's emotions, his trust, and his very instincts, hanging in the balance.
For a moment, Do-hyun's wrath at the audacity of the deceit rendered him speechless.
"You're a coward," he spat finally. "You're a fake. You don't have the right to lead this orchestra. Not when you can't even be honest with us about who you are."
He stormed out of the office, ignoring the worried whispers and the concerned glances from his fellow musicians as his scent of furious cedar filled the hallway. He wasn't thinking about the orchestra. He was only thinking about the man who had played him for a fool.
…
He found Manager Park Sangho sitting in his office, looking through a stack of papers. The manager's scent, a comfortable, earthy loam, did little to calm Do-hyun's rage.
"Kang Do-hyun-nim? Is something wrong?" Manager Park asked, his eyes wide with surprise.
"Something is very wrong!" Do-hyun bellowed, slamming his hand on the desk. "Who is that man? Why did you hire him? He's a fraud! He plays with us, toys with our trust, and then acts as if we're nothing to him!"
Manager Park sighed and leaned back in his chair, taking off his spectacles to massage the bridge of his nose. "I knew this would be difficult," he said softly at last. "But I had no choice. He was the only one who could save us."
Do-hyun snarled. "Save us from what?"
"From ourselves," Manager Park replied, his voice a low, heavy burden. "From the rot that has been festering here for more than ten years. From the way we've allowed our music to die."
He looked at Do-hyun with a profound sadness. "Do you think I chose him on a whim? I had a list of dozens of candidates, and they all wanted the same thing: power. They wanted to command an orchestra. They wanted to be kings on a stage. Jaemin-nim… Seo Jaemin-nim just wants to make music. That's it. That's all he's ever wanted."
Do-hyun's rage flickered, momentarily doused by the manager's sincerity. "But he lied," he ground out, the words raw with betrayal. "He's… an omega."
"He's a survivor," Manager Park countered without missing a beat, his voice firm. "Do you know what it takes for an omega to become a world-class conductor? He has to hide. He has to pretend. He has to be better, faster, and smarter than every alpha trying to tear him down. The music world is a battlefield, Kang Do-hyun-nim, and Seo Jaemin-nim has been at war his entire life."
He paused, a flicker of something haunted passing through his eyes. "Just a few years ago, he was considered the next great hope. He had a career that was rising faster than any other conductor. He was unstoppable. But he trusted the wrong person. He let his guard down for a moment, and it cost him everything."
"Who?" Do-hyun demanded, his fury shifting into a desperate need for answers.
"I can't say," Manager Park said, the finality in his tone absolute. "That's not my secret to tell. All I can tell you is, that person took his future. They took his music. And they stole his magnum opus, his very heart and soul on a page… The piece called The Conductor's Oath."
Do-hyun's mind reeled. The Conductor's Oath was a beautiful but notoriously difficult piece—the one shrouded in myth and speculation. A work of legendary brilliance that had disappeared without a trace, its composer erased from history. He had always assumed the composer had simply died, or retired in shame. He never imagined that a man who had faced such ruin would be standing in his rehearsal hall, ready to fight again.
"He's here, Kang Do-hyun-nim," Manager Park continued, his voice a low plea, "for one reason: to prove that a man can make music not with brute force, but with a quiet, beautiful will. He's here for a second chance. And he's risking his life for it."
Do-hyun swallowed, still not quite ready to release his anger. "What do you mean, he's risking his life?"
Park Sangho leaned back in his chair. "If you want to know, you'll have to ask him yourself."