In the days that followed, Emma buried herself in work, becoming a ghost in her own company. She volunteered for every overtime shift, every business trip—anything to avoid sharing space with Gu Liang.
His messages on WeChat went unanswered for hours, met only with a curt "Busy" or "In a meeting." Calls were dodged whenever possible.
But the body doesn't obey logic. The signs of her rut were growing stronger. She became irritable, snapping at subordinates over minor mistakes. Her cedar whiskey pheromones thickened the air in her office, making even Beta employees feel suffocated. At night, memories of Gu Liang crept in—his gentle eyes, his soft gasps, the soothing scent of white tea that once calmed her so completely.
Desire gnawed at her sanity like ants on sugar.
On Friday night, she once again used overtime as an excuse, returning home close to midnight. She hoped Gu Liang would be asleep—no contact, no temptation.
But the living room light was on.
Gu Liang sat curled on the sofa in soft loungewear, a book in hand. He looked up as she entered, gaze calm and steady.
For a moment, Emma's heart clenched. Under the warm light, Gu Liang looked like fine porcelain—fragile, exquisite. His scent, white tea and iris, seemed to sense her need and grew stronger, more seductive, threading into her nerves.
Her Alpha instincts roared awake.
"You're back," Gu Liang said, setting down his book. "Have you eaten? I can warm up some soup."
He stepped toward her—each movement pressing against her crumbling restraint.
"No need," Emma rasped, voice hoarse. She turned, trying to flee to the study. "I already ate."
But as she brushed past him, his pheromones—soothing, instinctive—spilled into the air. It was the final catalyst.
Emma froze. Her breathing turned ragged. Her eyes flushed crimson with the aggression unique to an Alpha in rut.
Gu Liang flinched, stepping back. "Emma? Are you… is your rut starting?"
His voice held concern—and a trace of caution.
That retreat, that caution, pierced her like a needle. Even you want to avoid me?
"Don't run from me!" she growled, grabbing his wrist with a force that made him wince.
"Emma… that hurts…"
He tried to pull away, but his resistance was futile. Emma yanked him close, one arm locking around his waist. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent like a drug.
"Let go! Emma, calm down!" Gu Liang panicked, pushing against her. But an Omega's strength was no match.
"You're mine…" she murmured, lips hot against his skin, teeth grazing the gland that pulsed with his scent.
She needed to mark him. Needed it to silence the chaos inside.
"No… please, don't!" Gu Liang struggled, tears spilling down his cheeks. He knew she wasn't herself—but being marked like this, in violence and desperation, felt like a violation.
His resistance only enraged her further.
Emma lifted him, ignoring his kicks and pleas, and threw him onto the bed they'd once shared in tenderness.
"Emma! Look at me! See who I am!" Gu Liang's voice cracked, desperate.
But Emma was deaf to everything but the scent, the need, the Omega beneath her. Her pheromones crashed over him like an avalanche, drowning the delicate white tea in burning cedar.
The sound of tearing fabric echoed in the silence.
Gu Liang's fight faded. He went limp, like a puppet with its strings cut. Tears soaked the pillow. He closed his eyes, refusing to look at her.
When her fangs pierced his gland and flooded him with her scent, his body convulsed. The feeling of being claimed swept through him—alongside a pain that tore his heart apart.
This wasn't union. It was conquest.
—
Time passed. The storm subsided.
Emma's mind slowly returned. The rut had quieted. Clarity returned.
And then she saw him.
Gu Liang lay curled on the bed, back turned. His skin was covered in bruises and red marks. The room reeked of cedar and white tea—and something else. Something sorrowful.
Emma's heart dropped. Panic and regret surged.
What have I done?
She reached out, voice dry. "Gu Liang…"
"Get out."
The words were soft. But they cut like ice.
Her hand froze midair.
She opened her mouth—to apologize, to explain. But no words felt worthy. In the end, she said nothing. She dressed and fled to the study, shutting the door behind her.
She collapsed into the chair, fingers tangled in her hair.
It was over. Everything was ruined.
She'd planned to end things gently. Now she'd become a monster. How could she speak of breaking up after this?
No, she thought bitterly. I already am a monster.
Her guilt and her urge to escape battled inside her, tearing her apart.
—
In the bedroom, Gu Liang opened his eyes.
The warmth once held in them was gone—replaced by cold, barren despair.
His tears had dried.
He touched the swollen gland at his neck, the bite mark still fresh. Emma's scent clung to him like a brand.
The last shred of hope he'd held… was gone.
Emma didn't love him. She didn't even respect him.
She'd used him. Like a vessel for her desire.
Gu Liang sat up, ignoring the pain, and walked to the mirror. The reflection showed pale skin, hollow eyes, bruises across his neck and collarbone.
He stared for a long time.
Then he laughed—soft, cold.
Emma, this is the path you chose.
You destroyed what we had with your instincts.
Now don't blame me… for using mine.
He picked up his phone. No hesitation this time. He opened the encrypted folder—not photos, but audio files and documents. His finger hovered over one labeled "Project E."
His eyes sharpened like blades.
The rut was an accident. But also a catalyst.
It accelerated the collapse. And ignited the fire of revenge.
The night stretched on. Two hearts once entwined—now one drowning in guilt, the other forged in hatred.
The storm was far from over.