Chapter 93 p1
The sound of the fitting room door slamming shut startled the other shoppers nearby.
“Did you smell that…?” one of them began, then trailed off as she and her friend, holding a few pajama sets, suddenly felt their legs weaken.
“There’s… an Alpha in rut! In there! Let’s go!” she whispered urgently, grabbing her friend’s arm and hurrying away.
Everyone in the store froze, gripping the nearest display for support, even the Betas affected by the powerful wave of Alpha pheromones emanating from the fitting room.
Xu Jinnan’s scent gland throbbed, her body burning, the tingling sensation intensifying, and she knew who was calling her name from behind the door.
She wanted to open it, to go to Shen Shu, but her body refused to obey, her muscles tense and unresponsive, her mind and body at war.
She stumbled, her hand gripping the doorframe for support.
“Xu Jinnan!” Shen Shu’s voice, laced with worry and a hint of panic, called out.
“Don’t…” Xu Jinnan gritted her teeth, her knuckles white as she gripped the doorframe, the coolness of the metal a stark contrast to the burning heat of her skin. “Shen Shu, go!” she said, her voice strained, her mind reeling, her control slipping.
Shen Shu’s scent, usually a faint, subtle presence, now filled her senses, a forbidden treasure she couldn’t resist.
She couldn’t even think about it without her body reacting, her desire a desperate thirst, like a wilting rose in a desert, yearning for water.
No. I can’t, she thought, her mind a battlefield, her resolve crumbling under the onslaught of Shen Shu’s intoxicating pheromones.
She heard Shen Shu calling her name again, a soft, pleading murmur.
“Nannan…”
The last of her resistance shattered.
She turned around, and just as she reached for the doorknob, a loud clap of thunder echoed from outside, the sound swallowed by the heavy thud of the fitting room door as she slammed it shut, pushing Shen Shu inside.
Shen Shu’s back hit the wooden wall, the impact jarring, the entire row of fitting rooms shaking slightly.
Xu Jinnan’s hand gripped her waist, the pressure almost painful, as her lips found Shen Shu’s, the kiss desperate and hungry, Shen Shu’s breath catching in her throat, her body pressed between Xu Jinnan and the wall.
Her knees trembled, and if it weren’t for Xu Jinnan’s arm around her waist, she would have collapsed.
But she didn’t want to pull away.
The small fitting room felt like it was shrinking, the air thick with tension and desire.
Shen Shu, realizing Xu Jinnan was losing control, tried to push her away, but Xu Jinnan didn’t budge.
The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth.
“Mm…” she moaned softly.
Then, Xu Jinnan’s lips left hers, and Shen Shu gasped for air, her lungs burning.
She was wearing an ankle-length autumn dress, and Xu Jinnan’s face was buried in her neck, her teeth grazing Shen Shu’s skin, a sharp, almost painful sensation.
Shen Shu, her sensitivity heightened by her recent use of suppressants, whispered, “Xu Jinnan…” her voice a breathless murmur, her usual coolness gone.
Her body trembled, her voice soft and yielding, like a feather brushing against Xu Jinnan’s skin.
To Xu Jinnan, it was a siren’s call, an irresistible temptation.
Her mind reeled, her Alpha instincts battling with her desire to protect Shen Shu, the conflict tearing her apart.
But her concern for Shen Shu was a deep-rooted instinct, a powerful force that held her back.
“Xu Jinnan, it hurts,” Shen Shu whispered, her voice strained.
The words snapped Xu Jinnan back to reality, and she released Shen Shu’s neck, her head resting on Shen Shu’s shoulder, her breath hot and ragged, the metallic tang of blood still lingering.
“Shu Shu… I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion, then, pulling away, took two unsteady steps back, her hand gripping the small bench for support, her body bent, her head bowed.
She was in pain, her scent gland throbbing, her body aching, her nerves on fire.
Not the pain of a physical injury, but the deeper, more agonizing pain of suppressed desire.
“Go,” she said, her voice strained, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead. “Lock the door, and find Professor Qin…” The words were a monumental effort.
She released Shen Shu and stumbled back, her hand gripping the bench for support, her body bent over, her head bowed.
She was in pain, her scent gland throbbing, her body aching, her nerves on fire. Not the pain of a physical injury, but the deeper, more agonizing pain of suppressed desire.
“Hurry,” she gasped, her voice strained, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead and onto the beige leather of the bench.
Shen Shu’s face was flushed, her skin burning hot, her body trembling slightly.
An Alpha’s pheromones, especially during a rut, were incredibly potent, almost overwhelming for an Omega.
And these were Xu Jinnan’s…
The scent of sunshine, warm and intoxicating, filled the small space, intensifying Shen Shu’s own desire, her body responding instinctively.
She could see Xu Jinnan’s pain, a deeper, more visceral pain than a simple rut.
She remembered Xu Jinnan’s apology that night, drunk and vulnerable.
And when Xu Jinnan had finally confessed, revealing her Alpha identity, Shen Shu had understood her hesitation, her fear of hurting Shen Shu, of triggering her trauma.
She had lain beside Xu Jinnan, her heart aching, wanting to reassure her, to tell her she didn’t care.
Xu Jinnan had told her to leave, thinking she was afraid.
She wasn’t.
She was more afraid for Xu Jinnan, afraid of her pain, her suffering.
An Alpha’s rut and an Omega’s heat were complementary, a natural balance, one seeking release, the other seeking a bond.
Shen Shu’s hand fluttered to her chest, her heart pounding, her face and neck flushed, a mixture of worry and a hesitant excitement.
But her fear quickly vanished.
After a brief moment of hesitation, her instincts took over, and she stumbled towards Xu Jinnan, her legs weak, and as she collapsed onto the bench beside her, her hand brushed against the dampness of Xu Jinnan’s sweat.
Xu Jinnan’s body stiffened.
“Xu Jinnan,” Shen Shu whispered, her voice hoarse, “I can…”
Xu Jinnan’s head was bowed, her voice a strained plea. “Shen Shu… please, just go.”
She was grateful Shen Shu wasn’t afraid, wasn’t repulsed, but she didn’t know what she might do. She wasn’t just in rut; her sensitivity was also heightened, a volatile combination, like a ticking time bomb.
She didn’t know how far she would go if she lost control.
“Just go!” she exclaimed, her eyes red-rimmed, suddenly hating this body, this prison of flesh and bone, the limitations it imposed.
Since arriving in this world, despite her outward success, her freedom had been an illusion.
She had been a prisoner of her past, a prisoner of her body, even her love for Shen Shu a source of frustration and restraint.
Shen Shu, seeing her pain, reached out and gently touched her face, and Xu Jinnan, as if drawn by the contact, looked up.
Shen Shu’s eyes, meeting Xu Jinnan’s, filled with tears, her voice soft and trembling. “Where would I go?” she whispered, her heart aching.
Xu Jinnan’s mind reeled, her consciousness fading, the warmth of Shen Shu’s hand on her cheek a comforting anchor, her words a soothing balm.
Then, with a sudden surge of desperation, she grabbed Shen Shu’s wrist and pulled her closer, Shen Shu’s back pressing against the edge of the bench, her breath catching in her throat as Xu Jinnan’s lips found hers, her dress falling to the floor like a wilting flower.
–A storm was brewing, not the fierce storms of autumn, but the gentler, more passionate storms of spring.
Hours later, Xu Jinnan’s consciousness slowly returned.
Shen Shu lay curled up in her arms, their bodies still intertwined, the afterglow of their passion a lingering warmth.
They held each other close, the silence broken only by the soft rhythm of their breathing.
Their clothes were beyond repair, and Xu Jinnan kicked aside the torn stocking that clung to her ankle, then gently helped Shen Shu up.
“Shu Shu…” she began, then stopped, seeing Shen Shu flinch in her arms, her body trembling slightly.
“Can we… rest for a bit?” Shen Shu whispered, her voice hoarse and weak, her body bruised and sore, her scent gland still slightly swollen.
Seeing the marks on Shen Shu’s skin, Xu Jinnan felt a wave of guilt and self-loathing.
What have I done?
The silence in the small fitting room was broken only by their ragged breathing.
Then, she frowned, touching Shen Shu’s forehead, which was cool to the touch, her body temperature also returning to normal.
Xu Jinnan’s face paled, realizing Shen Shu’s trembling wasn’t from passion, but from… something else.
–
At the hospital, in the VIP ward, Xu Jinnan stood outside the door, her hand pressed against her forehead, her expression a mixture of anxiety and regret.
The door opened, and she turned to see Professor Qin emerge.
“Miss Xu, she’ll be fine. Just a few bruises. But Miss Shen’s scent gland is slightly inflamed. We’ll need to do an ultrasound,” he said, noticing her worried expression.
“Inflamed?” Xu Jinnan asked, her brow furrowing.
She should have controlled herself.
She had been reckless, almost feral.
“I told you, pheromone blockers, especially the slow-release kind, require a stable dosage. If you miss a dose, any triggers can intensify your reaction, especially during a rut… This is actually a best-case scenario. And you should be grateful,” Professor Qin said seriously. “It was just a temporary mark. If it had been a permanent one, with your potent Alpha pheromones, Miss Shen might not have been able to handle it.”
He had been in surgery when Xu Jinnan messaged him, and by the time he arrived, she had been carrying Shen Shu out of the fitting room. They had been inside for over four hours.
Xu Jinnan felt a wave of fear, realizing how close she had come to losing control completely.
“Miss Xu, I can see how much you love your wife,” Professor Qin said, his voice softening slightly. “Based on my research, most secondary differentiators lose control during a rut, but you, even in that state, still protected her.”
Both temporary and permanent marks involved injecting pheromones into the scent gland, but temporary marks required more control, a more precise and measured release, while permanent marks involved a complete, uninhibited release, a deeper, more permanent bond.
And even in her heightened state, Xu Jinnan had still maintained a measure of control, her pheromones not fully released.
But his words weren’t very comforting; she had seen the inflammation on Shen Shu’s scent gland, the damage she had caused.
She lowered her head, her heart heavy with guilt.
She had forgotten.
She had dismissed the alarm for her pheromone blocker injection and, with her busy schedule and Shen Shu’s absence, had completely forgotten about it.
She covered her face with her hand, a wave of despair washing over her.
She felt helpless, the unfairness of it all, the cruelty of this world, a heavy weight on her heart. Why had she been given this gift, this connection with Shen Shu, only to have it threatened by her own body, her own past?
Tong Jia, approaching from the hallway, saw her distress, but didn’t know what to say.
She had also been affected by the powerful surge of Alpha pheromones in the lingerie store, her legs weakening, her body trembling.
The sales assistants had said there were only two people in the fitting room.
While she knew one of them was Shen Shu, she had still wanted to confirm.
But the pheromones had been too overwhelming.
Viola had arrived and taken her outside.
She had said she had gone to the fitting room to offer Xu Jinnan her suppressants, but… it had been Shen Shu who had spoken, her voice strained, telling them to leave.
A rut didn’t always require suppressants.
She and Viola had waited outside, the time stretching on, but they were wives, after all, and Viola had rented out the entire store, so it was a private space.
They couldn’t exactly interrupt…
But she hadn’t expected it to last so long, or for Xu Jinnan to be so… rough, sending Shen Shu to the hospital.
She felt a twinge of annoyance, but seeing Xu Jinnan’s distress now, she didn’t say anything.
After a while, the door to Shen Shu’s room opened, and a nurse emerged.
“Miss Xu, Miss Shen is awake,” she said.
They entered the room.
“How are you feeling?” Tong Jia asked, adjusting Shen Shu’s blanket.
“I’m fine,” Shen Shu replied, her gaze fixed on Xu Jinnan, who was standing beside Tong Jia, her expression unreadable.
Xu Jinnan met her gaze, then quickly looked away, a mixture of guilt, anxiety, and a strange, unsettling excitement swirling within her.
Tong Jia, sensing the tension, discreetly left the room, giving them some privacy.
Shen Shu looked at Xu Jinnan, who was standing a few feet away. “Why are you standing so far away? Afraid I’ll bite?” she asked, her voice still slightly hoarse from earlier, the long hours in the fitting room having taken a toll, but the coldness was still there.
The sound of her voice made Xu Jinnan’s heart ache.
Shen Shu’s face was pale, but the marks on her neck, a dark red against her skin, were a painful reminder of what had happened.
“…When did you find out?” Xu Jinnan asked, walking closer, her voice low, her guilt evident.
Shen Shu hadn’t seemed surprised, as if she had already known.
Shen Shu cleared her throat, then Xu Jinnan handed her a glass of water.
“How am I supposed to drink this?” she asked, her tone playful despite her hoarse voice.
Xu Jinnan, hearing the subtle tease, adjusted Shen Shu’s bed slightly, then sat down beside her, holding the glass to her lips. “Carefully,” she murmured.
Shen Shu’s expression softened as she took a sip.
After placing the glass on the bedside table, she looked at Xu Jinnan. “You really don’t remember anything from last night?”
Xu Jinnan, remembering the heat, the dampness of Shen Shu’s skin, the lingering scent of her pheromones, hesitated. “…I remember… bits and pieces.” She couldn’t admit she remembered everything.
Shen Shu looked at her for a long moment. “You told me everything last night,” she said softly.
Xu Jinnan froze.
That explained Shen Shu’s earlier coldness.
She paused, her mind racing. Everything? Including the sensitivity and the pheromone blockers? I told her about that? She vaguely remembered Shen Shu showing her something, a small box, and then she had said a lot of things.
If that was true…
“Then you shouldn’t have stayed,” she said, her voice low.
What if she had completely lost control? A permanent mark, besides being incredibly painful to remove, also created a deep, almost irreversible bond between an Alpha and an Omega, a biological imperative that could be devastating for the Omega if the relationship ended, their emotions and even their physical health affected by the severed connection.
It was an inherent unfairness in the Alpha/Omega dynamic, and one of the reasons why more and more Omegas were refusing permanent marks.
And besides, hadn’t Shen Shu been afraid?
“Xu Jinnan.”
Xu Jinnan looked at her, hearing the unusual seriousness in her voice.
“Yes?” she replied, her voice soft, almost obedient.
Shen Shu took a deep breath. “I wasn’t afraid. I’m not afraid of you, no matter what. Do you understand?” she said, her voice firm despite the hoarseness.
Xu Jinnan’s eyelashes fluttered. She had been worried she hadn’t explained herself clearly that night, hadn’t fully conveyed the dangers of her sensitivity. Did Shen Shu truly understand?
Her hesitation made Shen Shu cough, her voice slightly strained. “Even if it happened again, I would still do the same. So, why do you think I stayed? Don’t you understand?”
Xu Jinnan’s heart ached, and she reached out to gently stroke Shen Shu’s back. “I understand, I understand. Don’t worry. It was my fault. Please, calm down,” she murmured, her voice soothing.
“Do you really understand?”
Xu Jinnan leaned in, her arms circling Shen Shu, pulling her into a hug. “Yes, I do,” she whispered against her hair.
Shen Shu cleared her throat, and Xu Jinnan, afraid of hurting her, loosened her grip. “Are you feeling uncomfortable?”
Shen Shu looked at her silently.
Xu Jinnan took her hand, her voice full of concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m a little… uncomfortable… Can you get me some water?” Shen Shu whispered, her voice hoarse. The nurses had changed her into a hospital gown and wiped her down, but she still felt… sticky, the lingering scent of Xu Jinnan’s pheromones a constant reminder of their intimacy.
The room was quiet, and Shen Shu’s earlobes, which had been flushed earlier, had returned to their normal color.
Xu Jinnan, despite the suppressants, was still affected by her rut, Shen Shu’s earlier embrace having stirred her desire.
Now, looking at Shen Shu’s flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips, she felt a wave of heat.
She quickly turned away, filled a basin with warm water, and placed it on the bedside table, then closed the door and drew the privacy curtain, the small space suddenly feeling even smaller, more intimate. She wrung out a washcloth; there was no need for pretense between them now.
Her gaze lingered on the buttons of Shen Shu’s hospital gown. “Should I…?”
“Yes,” Shen Shu murmured, her body still sensitive after their four-hour ordeal in the fitting room.
A soft moan escaped her lips, and Xu Jinnan’s body flushed with heat.
By the time Shen Shu was clean, she was covered in a sheen of sweat, and so was Xu Jinnan.
It had been a sweet torture.
As Xu Jinnan was about to stand up, she felt Shen Shu’s fingers gently grasp hers.
“Do you… want more?” Shen Shu whispered, her voice hoarse.
Xu Jinnan’s throat tightened, her mind reeling. “Shu Shu…” she began, then sighed. Even she wouldn’t take advantage of someone in a hospital bed, connected to an IV drip.
“Don’t you?” Shen Shu asked, her voice soft.
Xu Jinnan clenched her jaw. “Shu Shu, you need to rest. I’ll get you some water,” she said, her voice strained.
“But I want to,” Shen Shu murmured, her body still aching, her scent gland throbbing, but the desire was still there, a persistent warmth, intensified by Xu Jinnan’s obvious restraint. She didn’t like seeing Xu Jinnan hide her true feelings, her true desires.
She tightened her grip on Xu Jinnan’s hand, her face nuzzling against her shoulder. “So, four hours is your limit?” she whispered, her voice like a playful tease.
Xu Jinnan, lying in Shen Shu’s hospital bed later that day, thought, I’m really not a good person.
–
