Chapter 2: Unavailable

“The number you have dialed is unavailable and will be connected to voicemail.

After the beep, charges may apply—”

He kept calling without pause as he walked through the parking lot.

If the incessant ringing were annoying enough, the call should have been answered, or at least declined, but the mechanical connection tone played to the very end every single time.

Was he in a situation where he couldn’t answer.

Or was he deliberately pretending not to notice.

There was no way to know without seeing him in person.

With each unanswered call, Seon-kyung’s steps grew more hurried.

Han Ji-seok was definitely in rut, and he had said he would be staying at the hotel for the next four days.

As a married couple, it would have been natural for Woo Seon-kyung to take leave and spend the heat period with him, but their relationship had deteriorated so badly of late that they were practically worse than strangers.

Even the fact that Han Ji-seok had entered rut had been conveyed through his secretary.

Alpha and omega.

Those with special traits that some even called a blessing from God.

In general, alphas were known for strong bodies, sharp intellects, and feral, predator-like judgment, while omegas were often said to possess beautiful appearances and artistic sensitivity.

Because of these outstanding traits, the two types were often objects of envy among ordinary betas.

However, along with those gift-like abilities, they also had to endure a period known as “heat.”

Though it varied from person to person, heat typically came once every three months.

For alphas, it was called rut, and for omegas, the heat cycle.

Once heat began, suppressed sexual desire flared violently.

Instinct took precedence over reason, s*x hormones surged explosively, and the urge to reproduce overflowed.

Thoughts narrowed to a single focus: finding a mate and coupling.

How was this any different from beasts.

Some people who detested special traits disparaged heat as evidence that such individuals were less evolved as humans.

They often cited the incidents and accidents caused by uncontrollable lust and aggression as proof.

The ways to get through heat were clear-cut.

Either release the pheromones built up in the body and engage in frantic s*x for several days,
or take strong suppressants and sleeping pills and sleep as if dead.

Seon-kyung had thought Han Ji-seok would undoubtedly choose the latter.

But was he wrong.

The bomb Koo Do-gyeong had tossed so lightly detonated in pieces inside Seon-kyung’s head.

He hurled the phone that never once connected onto the passenger seat.

Whenever he closed his eyes, the image of Han Ji-seok and a twenty-year-old omega together kept surfacing.

The omega, with an impression as gentle and fragile as a deer, owned nothing at all, yet his feelings toward Han Ji-seok were unmistakable.

They were large and solid enough not to break easily.

Without realizing it, Seon-kyung bit into his tender flesh.

His lower lip, crushed between his front teeth, turned pale white.

He rested his forehead briefly against the back of his hand gripping the steering wheel.

The heat seeping into his skin was noticeably warm.

To calm the tangled, noisy chaos inside him, he closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

Right.

There was nothing to be gained by getting worked up.

Just as Koo Do-gyeong said, driving in this state could lead to a pointless accident.

After taking a moment to steady himself, Seon-kyung opened his eyes and straightened his posture.

He pulled on his seatbelt and started the engine.

As he shifted gears and pressed the accelerator, the dark gray sedan slid smoothly out of its parking space and exited the lot.

***

It was just as he handed the car over to valet and entered the hotel lobby.

The general manager, who had been anxiously watching the entrance all along, rushed over the moment he spotted Woo Seon-kyung.

It was as though he had expected him to arrive.

Afraid of losing him, the manager stuck close behind Seon-kyung, who bypassed the front desk and headed straight for the elevators.

He began spilling clumsy excuses.

“I’m very sorry, Director Woo.

I shouldn’t have said anything unnecessary to Executive Koo—”

“So you’re aware.

I didn’t realize you were this loose-lipped.

You should know better than anyone how absurd it is to divulge a guest’s private information to a third party.

Well, I suppose you wouldn’t have done it if you couldn’t handle the consequences.”

“I truly apologize.

But I hope you’ll understand that I was in a situation where I had no choice—”

Seon-kyung stopped abruptly mid-stride.

The manager, sweating as he chased after him, froze as well, as though his feet had been nailed to the floor.

Seon-kyung turned halfway around and suddenly extended his right hand toward the manager.

He was demanding something, quite naturally.

“Pardon?”

The manager failed to grasp his intent right away.

He could only stare back and forth between Seon-kyung’s face and the outstretched palm in a daze.

After spacing out stupidly, it took the sharp, piercing command—“Card.”—to snap him back to his senses.

He hurriedly rummaged through the inside pocket of his suit.

What he pulled out in haste was the hotel’s master key card for administrators.

Just then, the elevator arrived at the lobby floor and opened its doors with a soft chime.

Seon-kyung stepped inside and tagged the card the manager handed him against the lower panel.

A faint light illuminated the floor buttons, awaiting selection.

His pale fingers pressed the button for the 22nd floor.

The wide-open doors closed as if swallowing him whole.

The elevator carrying him rose with a heavy yet smooth motion.

The top floor of the hotel was as familiar as ever.

He had been here countless times, and there was nothing new to take in.

At the corridor where the paths diverged, Seon-kyung naturally turned right.

He walked as if nothing were wrong, but each step on the plush carpet made his knees tremble, and sweat slicked his tightly clenched fist.

He soon arrived in front of Room 2201.

Standing there, Seon-kyung paused to catch his breath.

It felt as though his chest were tightly blocked.

Breathing was uncomfortable, and the nausea refused to subside.

In the end, he braced himself against the wall and dry-heaved silently.

Come to think of it, he had eaten almost nothing all day.

Seon-kyung forced down the bitter saliva in his mouth.

Physiological tears dampened the reddened corners of his eyes.

Finally straightening up, he clenched the hand that had been covering his mouth and slammed it against the door.

Bang, bang!

The sound of his fist striking was loud enough that it couldn’t be ignored.

With only four rooms on the floor, the sharp echoes filled the empty hallway.

Bang!

Bang bang!

Ignoring the perfectly functional doorbell, he pounded mercilessly on the door instead.

His soft fist, untouched by calluses, reddened as if it might burst.

The late-night disturbance was so great that doors to other rooms opened, guests peering out.

Some recognized Woo Seon-kyung standing outside and whispered among themselves.

As the situation grew increasingly unusual, more people began covertly watching with bated breath.

The door to 2201 was the last to open.

A gap barely wide enough to fit a head appeared, and through it emerged Han Ji-seok’s stiff expression.

The moment he saw Seon-kyung’s face, he frowned as if the situation were exhausting.

Han Ji-seok showed no intention of letting him inside, gripping the doorknob firmly and blocking the entrance.

Disheveled shirt, flushed cheeks, yellowed pupils.

Each came into view in turn.

Even the harsh breaths he expelled through his mouth were labored.

The unmistakable symptoms of rut were impossible to hide.

Letting out a hollow laugh, Seon-kyung shoved hard against Ji-seok’s chest, where he stood blocking the way.

“Move.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Move.

I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

Forcing his way inside, Seon-kyung first swept his gaze across the living room.

The neatly arranged suite looked unremarkable, aside from a few open windows.

Everything was in its proper place, angles perfectly aligned, except for Han Ji-seok’s jacket and tie, discarded like shed skin atop the sofa.

Several doors stood closed, but he ignored them.

Instead, he followed the unfamiliar, faintly sweet scent lingering in the air.

Han Ji-seok hurried to block his path, but Seon-kyung was faster.

He yanked open the sliding bathroom door, and just as expected, the omega hiding inside startled and shrank his shoulders upon seeing him.

The sight made a bitter laugh escape him.

No—he was a little angry.

“I’m pretty sure I warned you more than once.

I guess human words don’t register as words to you.”

“…..”

“I told you never to show your face in front of me again.”

“I’m s-sorry… I’m sorry.

I just—”

Immature omega pheromones, completely unmasked, filled the cramped bathroom.

It wasn’t all that different from what he had imagined on the way here.

Was this what it felt like to see red.

His thoughts scattered, his head bleached white.

His body moved first.

He grabbed Kim Hyun-jin by the collar and dragged him out roughly as the boy parroted apologies over and over.

The old, faded white T-shirt stretched pitifully under his rough grip.

Hyun-jin was about Seon-kyung’s height, but so thin his bones jutted out, and he was pulled along helplessly.

Even so, as an adult man, he should have had some strength to resist, yet whether from shock or guilt, he barely struggled.

“Even ignorance has limits.

Who do you think you are, coming here!”

“…..”

“Did you want to roll around with an alpha in rut and maybe even get yourself knocked up.

Were you that desperate to sleep with Han Ji-seok!”

As Hyun-jin was dragged along, silently enduring the verbal abuse, he caught on the threshold and collapsed to the floor.

Scrambling to steady himself, he barely managed to rise before Seon-kyung showed no mercy.

He seized the dry black hair and hauled him up, and Hyun-jin screamed, clinging desperately to his wrist.

It was a one-sided struggle.

The shabby T-shirt Hyun-jin wore stretched grotesquely, and angry red scratches marred the exposed nape of his neck.

Seon-kyung’s neatly trimmed nails had no sharp edges, yet wielded in fury, they carved wounds across Hyun-jin’s body.

“Woo Seon-kyung!”

At last, Han Ji-seok rushed in and tore the two tangled figures apart.

He grabbed Seon-kyung’s arm and wedged himself into the gap.

“Director—”

With a trembling voice, shaking hands clutched at Ji-seok’s waist.

Han Ji-seok shielded Kim Hyun-jin behind his back.

That scene imprinted itself on Seon-kyung’s eyes like slow motion.

“Calm down.

I know what you’re misunderstanding, but it’s not what you think.”

“Then what isn’t.

Hyung—this situation, right now—”

Why did it feel like he was the intruder here.

The sheer absurdity left him speechless.

Heat surged up, and his vision swam.