The heavy wooden door of the study slammed shut on the lingering scent of fear and bruised cherry blossoms. Do-hyun didn't bother turning on the main light, preferring the harsh, sterile glow of the computer monitor. He threw himself into the leather chair, his shirt still clinging damply to his skin, a constant, irritating reminder of his failure.
His coping mechanism, honed over years of high-pressure performance and competition, seized control. He was an alpha who solved problems through dominance and logic, and the only way to process the humiliation they had just endured was to obliterate the source.
The study air immediately grew dense with Do-hyun's scent—a spike of sharp, bitter cedar, aggressive and isolating. He tore into the messages from Manager Park. The news was already breaking: a sensational headline about the "volatile leadership" of the SPS, with anonymous sources validating the "unprofessional conduct" of Concertmaster Kang during a prior season. The bastard Choi Seungcheol hadn't wasted an hour.
Do-hyun spent the next forty minutes in a blind frenzy, typing emails to his lawyers, outlining counter-threats, dictating damage control strategies to Manager Park, and cross-referencing names of board members to see who might have leaked the Conductor Park incident. He was functioning on pure adrenaline, convinced that if he worked hard enough, fast enough, he could build a wall around Jaemin so thick the shame would never penetrate.
He was in the middle of a complex, furious reply to a journalist when a light, respectful knock sounded on the study door.
"Kang Do-hyun-ssi?"
Do-hyun swore under his breath, hating the interruption to his concentration when he was locked onto a target. He opened the door a crack, letting his tense, overpowering scent spill out.
Kwon Jaehyun stood there, expression quiet and neutral, utterly unfazed by the oppressive aroma.
"Jaemin is asleep," the beta began, his voice measured. "I gave him some mild herbal stabilizers. He was still shivering, but he's much more grounded now."
"Good." Do-hyun's tone was clipped. "Thank you for coming, Jaehyun-ssi."
Jaehyun merely nodded, his calm gaze taking in Do-hyun's rumpled fury and rigid posture. "Jaemin asked me to stay until he was asleep. Since I'm here, may I have a word with you outside? I need some air."
Do-hyun hesitated, annoyed by the man's assumption of authority. But Jaehyun wasn't demanding; he was simply stating a need, the quiet confidence of the beta disarming Do-hyun's defensive anger.
He stepped out, letting the door click shut behind him, sealing his battlefield away. They walked silently to the edge of the living room, near the large window that offered a view of the city's glittering, chaotic lights.
Jaehyun reached into his coat pocket and produced a sleek, silver vaping device. He took a long, slow draw, the faint, sweet scent of mint and berries filling the space, a counterpoint to the sharp cedar Do-hyun was emitting.
Do-hyun watched the small cloud of vapor dissipate. "You smoke?" he asked, the surprise audible.
"Only when I need to slow down and think," Jaehyun replied, exhaling a plume toward the window.
"That's… surprising." It was hard to associate someone carrying such a serene presence with such a vice.
Jaehyun met Do-hyun's eyes, his expression utterly detached. "It's a contained ritual, Kang Do-hyun-ssi. Unlike, say, throwing a bow across a stage."
The casual, blunt reference was a deliberate strike. Do-hyun bristled. "You know about that," he stated flatly.
"I read the article on the way here, yes, along with the comments," Jaehyun confirmed. Before Do-hyun could ask, he continued, "Jaemin doesn't keep many secrets from me. But I didn't see the need to tell him about this one yet; he has enough to process right now. And it should probably come from you instead."
Do-hyun hesitated, then sighed, shoulders slumping. "I tried to comfort him before you came, you know, but he wouldn't have it. But the moment you walked in, he ran to you," he said, the words spilling out with a bitterness he couldn't hide. He focused on the glass of the window, avoiding Jaehyun's piercing gaze, his real question unspoken but clear:
Why? Why you, and not me?
Jaehyun studied the tip of his vape, letting the silence stretch before he answered. "Because he trusts me to be still."
"Still?" Do-hyun turned to face Jaehyun. "I wanted so badly to hurl that woman out the window, but I held back, and I brought him home."
"You were flaring," Jaehyun corrected gently, but firmly. "You were probably seconds from tearing that woman apart. Your fury, your adrenaline, your spiking pheromones—it's all turmoil. You were in fight mode. And for Jaemin, who was already in a state of shock, and your intense anger, no matter how protective toward him, probably felt dangerous."
Do-hyun's mind reeled. The truth was brutally logical. His furious, protective instinct had been perceived by his hurt mate not as safety, but as a threat.
He stepped back, running a frustrated hand through his hair. His voice was low, laced with despair. "How do I fix that? I can't exactly stop feeling the way I do just like that. How do I stop being an alpha he sees as dangerous?"
Jaehyun looked at the alpha, his eyes softening slightly. "You don't stop being an alpha, Kang Do-hyun-ssi. You know that's not possible. You start being his haven, not another battleground."
He paused to take another draw from his vape, letting the full weight of his words settle before turning to tilt his head in the direction of the bedroom.
"Jaemin is asleep now. He must know, on some level, that he's safe here with you. The external world will always be dangerous, but your arms must always be a place where he knows for certain the fighting stops. But trust like that takes consistency, and time, to build. Although, I don't know… you seem to be able to change his mind for the better pretty fast."
When Do-hyun winced at the reference to the last time they had met, Jaehyun smiled, the expression softening his features, but didn't offer anything else.
Slipping his vape into his pocket, he walked briskly to the entrance and retrieved his bag, but paused, hand on the door, to look back at Do-hyun.
"One last thing, Kang Do-hyun-ssi. I think you've misunderstood my relationship with Jaemin," Jaehyun said, his neutral expression dissolving into something more earnest. "I love Jaemin dearly, but I will never be more than his friend. He knows that. I'm here because Jaemin trusts me to be calm and to anchor him. But, just keep proving to him that you are a safe space for him, and soon he won't need me anymore."
Do-hyun stood motionless in the wake of the beta's words, his diagnosis echoing in his mind. The calm critique had been more effective than any alpha dominance.
Making his way back in, he paused at the door of his study. His work still lay waiting, but he was suddenly filled with the overpowering need to be near Jaemin, to see if he really was alright… to find out he was still going to shun him, even though his rage had simmered down now.
He turned away from the study and headed upstairs. The work could wait.
Instead, he went straight to the bathroom, shedding the stickiness of his soiled clothing, the grime of the confrontation, and the aggression of his own cedar scent in a long, scalding shower. Only when he was sure he had erased all traces of rage from his skin did he emerge into the soft darkness of the bedroom.
Jaemin was a small, quiet presence under the heavy blanket, breathing evenly. Carefully, Do-hyun slipped beneath the covers, eyes fixed on his mate's back. He hesitated, remembering how Jaemin had recoiled from him earlier, then cautiously put an arm over Jaemin's waist.
The moment Do-hyun's arm settled, Jaemin stirred. He turned around to burrow instinctively into him, his skin cool against the heat of Do-hyun's body.
"Alpha," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. "You're not angry anymore."
Filled with relief at the omega's acceptance, Do-hyun gently pulled him closer, wrapping his arms securely now around the smaller, precious body. He pressed a kiss to Jaemin's soft hair, inhaling the faint scent of drowsy cherry blossoms.
"Not at you, jagi. Never at you."