Emma began dreaming—frequently, vividly.
The dreams were chaotic, surreal, but always circled the same theme: the mark. Sometimes, they replayed tender memories—her gently marking Gu Liang during their honeymoon phase, his body curled against hers, neck flushed, trembling slightly as he drank in her pheromones with quiet dependence. Other times, they twisted into nightmares—reliving the brutality of that rut-driven night, his desperate eyes, his silent tears, and finally, those lifeless, ash-colored pupils.
She always woke in the dead of night, drenched in sweat, heart pounding. The air still seemed to carry traces of that cold white tea scent. Instinctively, she reached out—only to touch the empty, icy sheets beside her.
The physiological effects of the mark lingered far longer than she'd expected. Temporary marks usually faded within weeks, metabolized away. But during that time, an Alpha's sensitivity to the marked Omega intensified—especially when the Omega was emotionally volatile, or like Gu Liang, deliberately distant and radiating rejection.
Emma felt like a taut string, the other end clenched in Gu Liang's hand. He didn't need to appear. His mere existence was enough to keep her on edge.
She buried herself in work, trying to numb the ache. But the pressure from First Heart Capital and Corei Pharmaceuticals was relentless. Board scrutiny, stock fluctuations, internal anxiety from the R&D team—everything landed on her desk.
She became irritable, hypersensitive. Her cedar whiskey pheromones grew oppressive, filling the office with tension. Beta employees flinched when reporting to her. During one project meeting, a senior researcher voiced mild concern about First Heart's published data.
Emma snapped.
"Are you here to praise the competition and kill our morale? If you've lost confidence, what are we even doing here? Get out!"
Silence fell. No one dared meet her eyes.
Emma's chest heaved. She knew she was losing control—but couldn't stop. Gu Liang was a thorn in her nerves, constantly reminding her of her failure.
Worse, she began "sensing" him in public.
Not through scent—but through the lingering bond of the mark.
At an industry gala, while chatting with key partners, she suddenly felt a jolt in her chest. She turned instinctively toward the entrance.
Gu Liang walked in, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, surrounded by executives. He looked leaner, healthier. The coldness in his eyes had been replaced by calm authority. He didn't glance her way—he was speaking quietly with Corei's chairman, lips curled in a polite smile.
And yet, Emma felt him. Not through sight, but through that damned, inescapable bond. She could sense his icy resolve, his complete indifference toward her.
Her pheromones flared uncontrollably. The cedar turned sharp, the whiskey nearly overwhelming. Her companions paused, awkwardly sensing the shift.
Gu Liang finally looked over.
Their eyes met.
No hatred. No resentment. Not even challenge. Just… disinterest. Like glancing at a mildly disruptive stranger.
His gaze lingered less than a second before drifting away.
That utter disregard stung more than any glare.
He didn't even hate her anymore.
The rest of the gala was torture. Emma couldn't focus. Her eyes kept drifting to his figure—watching him navigate the crowd with ease, accepting praise, offering smiles that never reached his eyes.
The Omega who once belonged solely to her—shy, gentle—now stood in a world she didn't recognize, shining with cold brilliance.
And she, bound by her own mark, was nothing but a pathetic observer. Addicted. Desperate. Haunted.
She left early. Fled.
In her car, she tore at her collar, slammed the steering wheel. The horn blared, echoing through the underground garage.
Why? Why can't I escape him?
The mark. That damned mark.
A wild thought took root—she needed to overwrite it. With a new, fresh, burning mark. She needed an Omega. Now.
She roared out of the garage, heading straight for the city's most exclusive club—known for its elite Omega companionship services.
The private suite was dimly lit, thick with sweet, seductive pheromones. Several stunning Omegas were brought in, each with a distinct scent and allure.
"Ms. Ai, take your pick," the manager said, smiling obsequiously.
Emma scanned the faces. Her gaze landed on one with a rich rose scent. Bold eyes. Sensual smile. The opposite of Gu Liang's cool restraint.
"Him," she rasped.
The rose Omega smiled and slid beside her, body pressing close, scent enveloping her.
"Ms. Ai~" he purred, fingers trailing along her arm.
Emma closed her eyes, trying to drown in the unfamiliar scent. Trying to erase the white tea.
She leaned in, lips nearing his neck.
But just before contact—revulsion surged.
Wrong. The scent. The feel. The look. Everything was wrong.
She shoved him away. Hard. He fell to the carpet with a startled cry.
"Get out!" she growled, eyes red with frustration and suppressed desire.
Silence. The other Omegas and the manager froze.
Emma didn't look back. She stumbled out, rushed to the restroom, and retched violently over the sink.
Nothing came up. Only tears blurred her vision.
She looked into the mirror—red eyes, disheveled hair, a woman on the edge.
And finally, she understood.
Gu Liang's mark wasn't just on his gland.
It was etched into her instincts. Her soul.
There was no escape.
She might never be free of the Omega named Gu Liang.
And that realization… Was terrifying.