Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sihwan
My brain flatlines.
I’m standing there, half-naked, water dripping down my chest and soaking into the waistband of my boxers, staring at Kang Donghwa like he just grew a second head.
Did he just...?
He did. He absolutely did.
The crowd erupts. It’s a chaotic mix of gasps, squeals, and the kind of frantic whispering that signals the scandal of the century. But I barely hear it. All I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears and the echo of Donghwa’s calm, bored voice claiming he’s the one who takes it.
He’s lying. He’s lying through his teeth, right in front of the entire student body, destroying his own untouchable "Ice Prince" reputation without even blinking.
I look at Heesung. The Omega looks like he swallowed a lemon whole. His face has gone from smug triumph to a blotchy, ugly shade of crimson. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, desperate to refute it.
But he can’t. Because Donghwa just stole the narrative. And looking at the two of us—me, the bulky, gym-obsessed upperclassman, and Donghwa, the lean, pretty-boy freshman—the crowd is eating it up. It fits their bias. It fits the hierarchy they understand. Big muscles top, pretty face bottoms.
They have no idea.
I look back at Donghwa. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking completely unbothered by the fact that he just outed himself as a submissive partner to a dominant Alpha—social suicide in this toxic ecosystem we live in.
He catches my eye, and for a split second, the mask slips.
He shoots me a look. A what can you do? look.
My chest tightens. It’s a physical ache, sharp and sudden.
He did this for me.
He knows how much being the seen as superior means to me. He knows my pride is made of glass. So he just shattered his own to keep mine intact.
My heart is doing something violent against my ribs, thudding so hard I’m surprised the water droplets on my chest aren’t vibrating with the force of it. I feel like absolute trash. Hot, steaming, wet trash.
I’ve spent the last week treating Donghwa like he was a contagion just because I was terrified of this exact moment, terrified of people knowing I wasn’t the one holding the leash. And now? Now he’s standing there, calm as a frozen lake, rewriting reality just to save my pathetic ego.
Heesung isn’t letting it go, though. The Omega looks like his brain is short-circuiting, his eyes darting frantically between Donghwa’s bored face and the very obvious, very scarred bite mark on my shoulder.
"That... that doesn't make sense!" Heesung shrills, his voice cracking with desperation.
He points an accusing finger at me. "If you're the one on the bottom, Kang Donghwa, then why is he the one wearing a mating mark? Alphas bite their mates to claim them! If you were the one taking it, you’d be the one with the scar! "
The crowd murmurs, the logic sound enough to cause a ripple of doubt. My throat closes up. I’m frozen, my feet rooted to the damp grass, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Donghwa to laugh and say, Just kidding, I actually knot him every weekend.
Instead, Donghwa just sighs. It’s a long, suffering sound, like he’s explaining quantum physics to a toddler.
"You have a very limited imagination, Heesung," Donghwa drawls, stepping closer to the barrier.
He looks over the crowd, his dark eyes landing briefly on me—unreadable, steady—before flicking back to the sputtering Omega.
"Who says marks only go one way? I have a biting kink. I get... enthusiastic."
A few people in the crowd snicker. My face burns so hot I think the water on my skin might actually evaporate. Enthusiastic. That’s one word for it. Possessive animal is another.
"Besides," Donghwa continues, his voice dropping an octave, smooth and authoritative enough to silence the whispers. He gestures vaguely between the two of us. "We’re both Dominant Alphas. Did you really think it would be a traditional arrangement? We switch. It’s a power struggle.
" He pauses, tilting his head with a smirk that is pure, high-grade bullshit.
"I just happen to be secure enough in my masculinity to admit when I've been. .. handled."
I watch the tide turn in real-time. It’s actually kind of terrifying how good he is at this.
Donghwa didn't just lie; he sold a fantasy.
The idea of two Dominant Alphas fighting for control, switching it up, wrestling for dominance behind closed doors?
It hits the crowd right in their collective libido.
I see the exact moment the shock wears off and the intrigue sets in.
A group of Omegas near the front start giggling behind their hands, looking between me and Donghwa with eyes that are definitely not judging us for being "defective.
" If anything, they look like they just unlocked a premium DLC.
Even the guys—the gym bros from my department who I thought would be the first to roast me—are nodding.
They’re buying the "secure in my masculinity" angle hook, line, and sinker. Because if Kang Donghwa, the richest, coldest, most unbothered guy on campus says it’s cool to get handled sometimes, then apparently, it’s cool.
Heesung, however, isn’t having it. The pretty Omega looks like he’s watching his entire worldview crumble. He stomps his foot—actually stomps it—like a toddler denied a candy bar.
"This isn't fair!" he snarls, his voice pitching up into a whine that grates against my eardrums. "You’re Alphas! You’re supposed to be with Omegas! That’s how it works!"
He gestures wildly at himself, as if presenting the 'correct' option, his face twisted in ugly entitlement. "It’s unnatural! You’re wasting your genetics!"
I wince. Desperation is a bad look on anyone, but on Heesung, it’s tragic.
I open my mouth to say something—to defend myself, or maybe just to tell him to shut the hell up—but Donghwa beats me to it.
He doesn't even raise his voice. He just arches that single, perfectly groomed eyebrow and looks at Heesung like he’s a smudge on a window.
"If we were meant to be with Omegas," Donghwa says, his voice dry and cutting through the murmurs, "then the bond wouldn't have taken, would it?"
He shrugs, a careless, elegant motion. "Biology doesn't care about your fairness, Heesung. It wants what it wants. And apparently, it didn't want you."
Damn.
The silence lasts for exactly one second before someone in the back—I think it’s Seungchan—lets out a loud whoop. That breaks the dam. A ripple of laughter and cheers goes through the crowd. It’s not mocking this time; it’s approval. They love a winner, and Donghwa just won.
Heesung turns a shade of purple I didn't think was possible for human skin. He looks around, realizing he’s lost the room, lost the narrative, and definitely lost the Alphas.
With a strangled noise of frustration, he spins on his heel and shoves his way through the crowd, stomping off toward the arts building with his tail firmly between his legs.
The adrenaline is still crashing through my system, making my fingertips tingle, but the suffocating dread that’s been choking me for weeks? Gone. Just like that. Evaporated into the humid afternoon air.
I look across the few feet of grass separating us. Donghwa is already being swarmed. A wall of curious students is closing in on him, peppering him with questions that range from invasive to downright vulgar, but he doesn't look rattled. He looks... bored. Unimpressed.
Then, through a gap in the bodies, his eyes find mine.
I let my guard down for a fraction of a second, letting him see the sheer, pathetic gratitude written all over my face. Thank you, I mouth, though I doubt he can read it amidst the chaos.
Donghwa’s mouth quirks up at the corner. He doesn't nod. He doesn't wave. He just shoots me a slow, deliberate wink—arrogant, conspiratorial, and devastatingly hot—before turning his attention back to a girl asking if he’s "always had a thing for older guys."
"Jesus, Sihwan!"
A hand slams onto my bare shoulder with the force of a falling brick. I jump, nearly slipping on the wet grass, and whip around to find Seungchan grinning at me like he just won the lottery.
"You sly bastard!" Seungchan roars, shaking me by the shoulder he just assaulted. His eyes are wide, practically vibrating with excitement. "You kept that under your hat? Seriously?"
Behind him, the rest of the swim team is crowding in, their expressions a mix of shock and newfound reverence.
"I... uh..." I stammer, my brain still trying to catch up to the new reality Donghwa just constructed for us.
"Don't give us that humble act!" Shinwon, our backstroke specialist, jeers, elbowing me in the ribs. "You bagged Kang Donghwa? The Ice Prince?"
"And you bonded him," Seungchan adds, his voice dropping to a tone of hushed awe.
He looks at the bite mark on my shoulder—the mark everyone now thinks is a trophy of my conquest rather than a brand of my submission.
"Dude. You must have put it down heavy to get a Dominant Alpha like that to submit to you. "
I choke on my own spit.
Put it down heavy. If they only knew. If they knew that the only thing I was "putting down" last weekend was my face into a pillow while Donghwa rearranged my insides, they’d laugh me off the team.
But they don't know. They’re looking at me like I’m a god. Like I’m the ultimate Alpha who tamed the untamable beast.
"I mean," I start, rubbing the back of my neck and trying to summon even an ounce of my usual swagger. "You know how it is. Chemistry."
"Chemistry, my ass," another teammate laughs, slapping my back. "You’re a legend, hyung. Seriously. We thought you were dodging Omegas because you were having a dry spell, but you were just hunting big game."
"Hunting big game," I repeat faintly. I glance back toward Donghwa. He’s effortlessly fielding the crowd, looking cool and untouched, while I stand here half-naked and shivering. Yeah. I’m the hunter. Sure.