Ch 56

Ji-an let Bobo go after a while, watching as the cat struggled once it reached its limit. Glancing around the table, he picked up an apple and bit into it with a loud crunch.

Ignore everyone else and do as I please.

Several people came to mind—the friends who had been startled and flustered when they saw him with Ahjussi, Haneul, who had wept and wailed, grandmother, who had sighed helplessly, and even Secretary Baek, who hadn’t bothered to hide his sneer.

As soon as those faces surfaced, a flood of negative emotions surged within him, leaving him unsettled.

But what suppressed that discomfort was the old woman’s words, spoken just before the sliding door had opened: “Where do you think you’re going? Stay by Ideun’s side. That brat isn’t going anywhere.”

It wasn’t just absurd—it was beyond belief. What kind of person acted with such a complete lack of courtesy and propriety? And not once, but twice. He hadn’t said it outright, but there was no way the old woman didn’t know about his past.

If both the old woman and Ahjussi accepted him despite knowing everything, then maybe he truly did have a place here. Their relationship had started on the wrong foot, but from the beginning, it had been Ideun. Ideun had stolen his heart, and the one he had imprinted was Ideun as well.

Adjusting his usual negative thoughts even slightly made things a little easier to accept. More than anything, he no longer wanted to leave Ideun’s side.

He had spent countless nights crying himself to sleep, longing for Ideun and Bobo, even as he received protection and care from the two who had taken him in when he had nowhere else to go.

“Ah! Grandmother, Grandfather.”

Lounging on the plush sofa like a limp teddy bear, Ji-an suddenly sprang to his feet. What should he do? He hadn’t even said goodbye or expressed his gratitude. He had just shown up out of nowhere and then vanished just as suddenly.

Ah, but I don’t have their contact information. He had planned to get a phone first and exchange numbers with the old woman. Still, he knew the name of the bus stop where he had gotten off, so finding them wouldn’t be difficult.

Hurrying inside, Ji-an hesitated in the unfamiliar space, looking around anxiously. Ideun’s officetel had been spacious, but this house was even larger—plus, it had a second floor. Ideun, who had stepped out to make a call, was nowhere in sight, and none of the staff were visible either. There were supposed to be quite a few people working here…

“Excuse me.”

Ji-an called out hesitantly, standing alone in the vast living room. When several staff members appeared from different directions, he forced an awkward smile. They actually come when you call? At the officetel, he had at least become familiar with the building manager. But now, just from his voice, three people had already shown up.

He fumbled for words, unsure whom to address, but before he could say anything, he spotted Ideun descending the stairs. Since he didn’t have their phone numbers, he had to go immediately.

“Ahjussi.”

“What?”

“Grandmother and Grandfather must be worried. I was so out of it that I just came here on my own. What should I do? They must be so worried. I need to go to Donghae right now. The elderly couple who took care of me are there…”

His words tumbled out in a frantic rush, repeating himself in his urgency. Even if he left now, it would take hours. Ji-an trailed off and glanced outside. It would be nighttime when he arrived. As he fretted, he suddenly felt something heavy in his hands and looked up.

“Traveling long distance right now isn’t a good idea, so call them instead. And don’t worry too much—I already let them know.”

Before he could protest, Ideun was already dialing a number on the phone he had handed over. After a few rings, without any greeting, a familiar voice came through the speaker: “Oh dear, is our baby awake?”

Tears streamed down Ji-an’s face the moment he heard the grandmother’s voice.

After ensuring Ji-an had his emotional outburst and fell into an exhausted nap, Ideun quietly left the bedroom. He had managed to soothe him for now, but he still hadn’t said the most important things.

That he had imprinted Ji-an. That they had become a mutual imprint. That Ji-an was carrying a child.

He couldn’t reveal everything at once—he had to gauge Ji-an’s condition first. So far, Ji-an’s reactions had been surprisingly calm. Even after waking to find himself here, even after hearing that he was essentially confined and would be marrying him, he had only blinked those large eyes. Given how he had constantly run away and voiced nothing but denial, this was a significant improvement.

If he carefully removed the obstacles around Ji-an and approached him steadily, their relationship could develop smoothly. The real issue was Ji-an’s past—what Ideun still hadn’t uncovered.

While having brunch with Ji-an, Ideun received a call from Rowoon. The doctor had visited early that morning to check Ji-an’s condition and take a blood sample.

Ji-an’s omega pheromone levels and pregnancy-related hormones were steadily increasing. Based on the current levels, they would be able to see the baby via ultrasound within two or three weeks. Hearing this, Ideun found himself at a loss for any particular emotion.

The alpha pheromones he had unconsciously released whenever Ji-an was in distress—marked by the scent of fresh grass—had vanished since they came to this house. For a moment, he had forgotten. Ji-an didn’t seem to be experiencing morning sickness, nor did he have any particular cravings or food aversions.

Whether the child was his or not, he intended to raise it. But the lingering doubts refused to be ignored. The timing and circumstances suggested that Ji-an had imprinted him in France and conceived afterward. However, the key issue was Ji-an’s perception.

If, before meeting him that night, Ji-an had encountered another alpha he had feelings for and attempted to imprint on them, then Ji-an would naturally believe that person was his true imprint and that the child was theirs. If that were the case, would Ji-an still stay by his side?

Ideun’s jawline tensed, the veins on the back of his hand standing out sharply.

With a deep sigh, he passed through the living room and entered the study, slowly pacing the room.

Arms crossed, fingers resting against his chin, he suddenly stopped walking. It had been years since he last recalled anything about his ruts. Due to his pheromone issues, he had always spent them in the villa, sedated. And every time he awoke from that deep sleep, all that remained was a sense of emptiness. Discomfort.

But the room had always been exactly as it was before he had fallen asleep, and the air had been thick with the musk he must have exuded during his rut. Standing still, Ideun’s gaze fell on the desk calendar. His last rut had been last autumn. Based on timing, another one should be approaching.

“……”

Staring at the calendar, Ideun took out his phone and made a call.

***

Everything proceeded naturally, as if scripted. Upon arriving at the villa, the caretaker greeted him as always. As he entered the room at the end of the second floor, the caretaker followed, setting down a tray containing water and two pills.

“Leave it there and go.”

Ideun, shrugging off his jacket, smirked when the caretaker remained still.

“Fine. I’ll take them. Just make sure the house is empty.”

So they really had to confirm he took them? Something that had never bothered him before now felt strangely off. Casually, he picked up the pills, pretended to swallow them, and drank the water.

Only after he placed the empty glass back on the tray did the caretaker bow and leave. Ideun’s eyes darkened as he watched the retreating figure. Then, he retrieved the two pills he had palmed and slipped them into a small pouch.

After showering and stepping out in his robe, Ideun took in the familiar space where he had spent his ruts. Moving to the window, he reached for the curtain but paused when he saw the caretaker and a few workers stepping outside. Soon, the resIdeunt staff left in their cars, and the caretaker disappeared toward the employee quarters behind the villa.

Nothing seemed unusual. Maybe this was pointless.

Still, Ideun did something as natural to him as breathing—he stopped suppressing his pheromones.

Even though this wasn’t a real rut, he had said it was, so he might as well release a little pheromone. The caretaker and workers were all betas, so they wouldn’t notice. But there was no room for mistakes in what he was about to do.

And nothing should happen.

After circling the room to check that the windows and door were closed, drawing the curtains, and turning off the lights, the small bedside lamp illuminated the spacious room slightly.

After shrugging off the bathrobe and tossing it onto a chair, Ideun headed for the bed. As soon as he lay down on the soft, comfortable mattress, a headache began. How long had he been lying there? At the sound of the door opening without a knock, Ideun instinctively closed his eyes. Though the carpeted floors of the hallway and bedroom absorbed footsteps, the silence of the space couldn’t fully mask the presence of whoever had entered.

The person approached the bed, as if checking whether he was asleep, then began moving around the room. He was sure he had drawn the curtains, but he heard the sound of them being adjusted. Then, the bedside lamp he had left on was switched off. A moment later, the sound of the door opening and closing reached his ears, and when Ideun opened his eyes, his expression twisted. But the darkness swallowed his expression whole.

Pitch-black darkness. Could it really get this dark? A crease formed at the corner of Ideun’s eye as he hesitated to lift a hand in confusion. Sitting up to turn on the lamp, he realized it wouldn’t turn on. More than anything, moving in the darkness made his actions sluggish, and he inevitably bumped into things.

Was there any reason to make it this dark? After fumbling around and repeatedly hitting his legs and feet against the furniture, Ideun confirmed that none of the lights in the room would turn on. Just why was this happening?

Only after stepping into the adjoining dressing room to retrieve his phone did he finally see some light. With the phone in hand, instead of returning to bed, Ideun draped his discarded robe over himself and sat down in the chair.

There were three people who knew he was in rut: the caretaker at Ji-an’s house, the villa’s caretaker, and Ha Tae-min. They were the only ones who absolutely needed to know why he would be absent for a few days.

Being trapped in darkness with a clear mind was far from pleasant. Even though he had his phone, the contrast of its light against the pitch-black surroundings made his eyes unbearably fatigued.

Had he made a mistake? Tonight—no, just for a few hours—he’d stay like this before heading back.

He should’ve just pulled the sleeping Ji-an into his arms and taken a nap together…

Leaning back into the chair, Ideun closed his eyes. It was the first moment of quiet he’d had since Ji-an disappeared. He had searched relentlessly through the blizzard to find him, and once he had, Ji-an’s fragile condition had kept him on edge the entire time.

Now, he had placed Ji-an somewhere where that old woman’s hands wouldn’t easily reach. The house’s security was thorough, and he had stationed people nearby.

Just as he was about to check his phone for any messages, he sensed movement. Quickly, he discarded his robe and slipped back into bed.

Once again, the door opened and closed without a knock. In the silence where only darkness reigned, someone else was in the room.

“…You’re not awake yet.”

At the sound of a sigh-laced murmur, Ideun doubted his own ears. Why? Why now? Why was Ji-an’s voice here…?

Sitting up, Ideun turned on his phone. And the moment its light illuminated the door, he found himself unable to breathe.

A figure stood in front of the door, wearing nothing.

His eyes were covered with a blindfold, his mouth gagged with cloth. A collar designed to prevent imprinting was around his neck, and on his hands… Latex gloves. His hands, feeling the air as if trying to navigate, suggested he was trying to move forward. Aside from that, he wore nothing, and he approached the bed carefully, as if familiar with both the darkness and the situation.

“I got dragged here while I was napping because of you, you know. Why did you go into rut alone when I was right there… I really hate coming here.”

He reached the bed, pulling back the covers. Ideun wasn’t foolish enough to misunderstand what those words implied. He was sober now, but if he were an alpha in rut, drugged into sleep?

“This thing really makes no difference, so I don’t get why they keep putting it on me.”

As Ji-an’s hand moved toward the blindfold, Ideun instinctively flipped his phone over, hiding its light under the blanket. In the absence of light, his vision saw nothing.

Yawn.

Unlike Ideun, who was frozen in shock, confusion, and a mounting fury, Ji-an climbed into the bed without hesitation, even letting out a sleepy yawn. Then, the latex-covered hand brushed against Ideun’s arm.

“Found you.”