Chapter 48: Bite. Mark. Claim.

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

The short blade caught the light, its smooth silver edge reflecting the shifting sky and drifting smoke outside the tower. Zhou Yunchen moved swiftly, seizing Lu Yao’s knife hand. The force of impact nearly toppled them both, but once Zhou Yunchen redirected the blade, he pulled Lu Yao forward with him.

The next moment, Alpha and Omega crashed to the ground together. Shards of glass and twisted metal tore into Zhou Yunchen’s uniform, drawing a muffled groan from him. He threw an arm around Lu Yao, shielding him as the younger man fell into his chest.

The syrupy sweetness of pheromones engulfed him, drowning his senses as though someone had poured golden honey over his head, sealing off his breath, his sight, his hearing. His grip tightened on Lu Yao’s wrist, trying to force him to release the knife. But the harder he pressed, the tighter Lu Yao clung to the hilt, blue veins straining beneath trembling skin.

Then Lu Yao raised his head and met his gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, crimson like a rabbit’s, locked stubbornly onto Zhou Yunchen. He looked like a small hedgehog bristling with spines, all sharp defiance yet lacking any true lethality.

Zhou Yunchen could feel his trembling. Sweat soaked Lu Yao’s dark hair, clinging to his temples. He bit his lip hard, long lashes quivering with tears that threatened to fall.

Zhou Yunchen eased his hold, fearful of crushing the delicate bones beneath his hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but his nose was already flooded with catnip-sweet pheromones, his muscles straining to keep both his human and snow leopard instincts under control.

“Lu Yao…” The blade lunged suddenly toward him. Zhou Yunchen jerked his head aside, the knife grazing passed.

Fragments scattered across the floor. He cursed himself—he had let his guard down, deceived by Lu Yao’s fragile expression. He hadn’t expected Lu Yao to still have such strength, or the clarity to feign weakness in order to strike. When the first attempt failed, Lu Yao prepared to strike again, but Zhou Yunchen was ready this time. He twisted, forced Lu Yao down, and wrenched the knife away, hurling it across the room.

“Mm—” Glass shards dug into Lu Yao’s body, dragging a pained sound from him.

Zhou Yunchen’s heart clenched. He immediately pulled him upright, locking both of Lu Yao’s wrists together in one broad hand to stop any more reckless struggles. He pressed him against the vertical support of the conference table.

“Lu Yao, can you still understand me?” Zhou Yunchen held his shoulders steady. “Do you know who I am?”

Lu Yao’s eyes were glazed with mist, a storm of confusion. Wariness, aggression, and desire tangled together, hot and suffocating, obscuring his vision and scattering his thoughts. His focus splintered—estrus-driven arousal battling with buried memories of despair. The more his body burned with need, the deeper he sank into painful recollections.

He knew there was an alpha before him, but names, faces, familiarity—none of it mattered. That alpha’s presence gave him fleeting security, yet the weight of dominance pressed down like a chain. Fear twined with want until he recoiled in helpless resistance.

It was as if hellfire burned beneath him, searing him alive. When Zhou Yunchen tried to close the distance again, Lu Yao lashed out with a kick. Zhou Yunchen twisted away, but the blow still landed hard against his side.

Realizing his attack had little effect, Lu Yao grew even more frantic. Panic drove him into a frenzy of wild punches and kicks, forcing Zhou Yunchen to duck and weave, unable to approach directly. His cries broke into ragged sobs, breath hitching, his body pushed past its limit. The flurry of blows rained down again and again.

Through the one-way comms, the doctor urged Zhou Yunchen to act quickly. Lu Yao’s condition wouldn’t hold much longer. “Don’t—don’t let it get to the point where a mark just… happens.”

It had happened before. Zhou Yunchen had never intended that. He refused to force Lu Yao. Yet now, no other path remained. The dark silhouette before Lu Yao loomed closer, heat radiating with suffocating force, pressing around him like a prison of walls closing in. He gasped, trembling, his cheeks flushed an unnatural red. Terror beat harder through his veins than desire ever could.

“Lu Yao. Let me mark you.” Zhou Yunchen leaned toward the curve of his neck, his cheek brushing the feverish tip of Lu Yao’s ear. The younger man, who had just been lashing out, now shrank helplessly backward.

“You… you…” Lu Yao’s voice broke, halting with ragged breaths.

Zhou Yunchen’s palm closed around his waist, pulling him closer to the source of that intoxicating scent. Heat poured off thin, taut skin. Lu Yao’s weak hands pressed against Zhou Yunchen’s shoulders, a futile push. The alpha’s dry lips brushed over the tender skin, sparking jolts of sensation. He was still trembling.

Zhou Yunchen’s fangs grazed his skin, then pressed down. The flesh broke. Alpha pheromones surged through the wound, carried by blood and heat.

Lu Yao went rigid, every muscle tightening as though he couldn’t breathe. His body arched, suspended, fingers digging desperately into Zhou Yunchen’s shoulder. The deeper the fangs sank, the deeper his nails pressed, until Zhou Yunchen felt the sting of blood beneath them.

Lu Yao’s entire body ached. He threw his head back, a trembling sob escaping his lips. “Zhou Yunchen… it hurts…”

Zhou Yunchen’s breath faltered. He had held himself together in Lu Yao’s flood of pheromones for so long, but the instant Lu Yao’s frail voice broke out, his defenses crumbled. Wrapping his arm more tightly around Lu Yao’s waist, Zhou Yunchen pulled out a tranquilizer and drove the injector into his arm.

Lu Yao let out another muffled groan.

The tranquilizer began to take effect. Zhou Yunchen felt the body in his embrace gradually slacken as the drug eased him down. He opened his mouth, withdrawing his fangs, the corner of his lips still stained with blood.

Lu Yao was slipping into unconsciousness. He looked up at Zhou Yunchen, no longer able to swing a fist or kick a leg, but his ice-blue eyes followed every movement. Normally cold and steely, those eyes now overflowed with frustration, grievance, pain, and a desperate hunger he could not resolve.

His hand slid down, falling onto Zhou Yunchen’s knee. He tried to move, but the drug pulled him deeper into darkness. In the end, only his index finger twitched against Zhou Yunchen’s knee, leaving behind a faint tickling sensation.

Once Lu Yao had fully passed out, Zhou Yunchen injected himself as well, but pushed barely a tenth of the drug—just enough to numb his senses, enough to dampen the impulses no one could be allowed to see.

He wanted to wipe the blood from the back of Lu Yao’s neck, but the bite had been too deep. The gland was already red and swollen, and without sterile gauze on hand, Zhou Yunchen feared infection. At last, he forced himself not to touch it.

Lifting Lu Yao by the waist, Zhou Yunchen carried him through the ruins toward the door. The gates opened before him. The once-chaotic corridor fell into utter silence at his sudden appearance. As Zhou Yunchen advanced, the crowd parted like a sea, eyes drawn to the cold, steady alpha whose presence dominated the hall.

In his arms lay a beautiful omega—fragile, disheveled, utterly defenseless. Zhou Yunchen laid Lu Yao onto a sealed stretcher. Medical staff rushed in immediately to check his condition.

When the doctor caught sight of the shredded back of Zhou Yunchen’s uniform, the fabric riddled with small holes seeping blood, he blurted, “General Zhou, you should have your wounds treated as well.”

“I will.” Zhou Yunchen lowered his head, brushing the dust from Lu Yao’s hair with surprising gentleness.

The explosion at the Space Planning Department shook the entire Rose System. The police launched a rapid investigation, but before results were reached, an organization called The Listeners stepped forward and claimed responsibility.

“I knew nothing about this!” Qian Shan’s voice crackled through the communicator, hurried and anxious as he spoke to Zhou Yunchen.

“The Listeners are also a branch of the Dialogue Faction,” Zhou Yunchen said. “If I remember correctly, your people have ties to one another.”

“You asked me to persuade the Dialogue Faction senators to vote in favor of Chief Engineer Lu’s NTL project. I did. If I had known anyone intended to launch a bombing, I wouldn’t have stood by. Yes, I’m in Dialogue Faction, but my only goal is to understand the beasts and end this war.”

His voice dropped. “The Listeners… they’re a radical offshoot. They worship alien civilizations like gods. They oppose any war, defense, or experiments involving the beasts. To them, the beasts are divine envoys, sent from heaven to be revered. Before, they were only preachers. I never thought they’d escalate to something of this scale.”

Zhou Yunchen asked flatly, “Then do you believe they have the strength to infiltrate the Space Planning Department and plant explosives?”

“I… I can’t say.”

At that moment, the wristband on Zhou Yunchen’s arm lit up red. Rising from the bench outside the ward, he cut the conversation short. “Lu Yao’s awake. We’ll talk later.”

Lu Yao woke from a dream. When the tranquilizer wore off, he had sunk into normal sleep, but now the ward’s lights stirred him into hazy awareness. Pain swept through his body. Beside him, the monitoring instruments ticked steadily. As he turned his head, sharp pain shot from the back of his neck, and memory surged back in a flood.

The vote. The explosion. Estrus. The mark. No matter how chaotic it had been, the undeniable truth remained: he remembered everything. From the moment he drove a needle into Mo Feng, to when Zhou Yunchen sank his fangs into his neck—and then pressed the tranquilizer into his arm.

His mind still floated, unfocused, like drifting in a cloud. He couldn’t name the strange subtlety of the sensation—until his gaze landed on the single chair placed by his bedside. A thought rose unbidden in his mind. Just now, someone had sat there. Sat for a long, long time. The trace of his presence still wrapped around Lu Yao’s nerves.

That someone was the man who had given him a temporary mark. Zhou Yunchen. Lu Yao couldn’t smell alpha pheromones. Long-term use of suppressants had dulled him to even the faintest leaks most alphas carried in daily life.

But now… now it was different. Even without scent, he could feel Zhou Yunchen’s presence. It was the special link that formed after a mark was made. And did that mean…

When Lu Yao pulled up his sleeve, he saw no needle marks on his forearm—only a small puncture on his upper arm where the tranquilizer had gone in. After a temporary mark, an omega no longer needed suppressants. An alpha’s pheromones would help stabilize them through estrus.

But Lu Yao didn’t feel stable at all. His situation wasn’t like that of an ordinary omega. The moment the handle of the ward door turned, he knew Zhou Yunchen was about to walk in.

Snatching the blanket, Lu Yao pulled it over himself, wrapping his entire body tightly beneath the quilt. When Zhou Yunchen entered, all he saw was a cocooned bundle of blankets—and a long strand of black hair left forgotten, spilling loose outside the covers.

Author’s Note:

Honestly, this was my first time writing a scene like this, and my blood was boiling with excitement! Before, I always felt like writing these moments was like cutting flesh from my own leg—not exactly satisfying. But this time, I really enjoyed it!

 

 

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