Where Moths Feast in the Shadows

by plushiehue

Summary:

Kai had been running in the snow for what felt like an eternity. His bones ached and throbbed with a deep weariness. He could barely walk, but his primal instincts were still telling him to get out of here. To run. To escape. But his body was betraying him. A harsh cough racked his frame, sending a spray of blood-stained saliva into the pristine snow. He stumbled, his vision blurring at the edges.

Through the swirling snow, he finally saw it: the ominous iron gate of Harrowing Heights. He was close now, so agonizingly close. But before he could take another step, before he could deliver his warning, Kai’s fragile body finally gave out. He collapsed, a broken doll flung into the snow, near the gate. The cold seeped into his bones, a numbing embrace, as darkness claimed him. He lay motionless, a small, vulnerable figure against the vast landscape.

(Consumed by love and then shattered by betrayal from two people he cherished, Kai now faces an impossible choice. Can he reconcile with the people who wronged him, grappling with their past mistakes and present affections? Now he must confront his complicated feelings and question his morality.)

Chapter 1: Prologue

BUFFALO, NEW YORK, 1888

The day Huening Kai’s mother was buried, the world was a monochrome canvas painted with weeping snow. Fat, heavy flakes fell relentlessly as Kai, a small figure swallowed by a miniature black coat and hat, leaned against his father for support, his pale face stark against the somber attire. The other mourners, a sea of darkness, were draped in traditional mourning: black hats and heavy veils obscured their faces, while ebony coats, gloves, and macabre jewelry woven from the hair of deceased loved ones completed the grim spectacle.

In the churchyard, he spotted Taehyun and his sister Taeri. The familiar brunette with his dimpled smile was Kai’s bosom friend in all things. His starry eyes, the only spot of brightness in the graveyard, found Kai’s and held them, almost as if he were holding his hands from afar, consoling him.

Kai, barely twelve years old, was no stranger to funerals. Death was a frequent visitor in the Victorian era. But Kai had only one mother to lose. Bewildered, new, and heart-crushing. Tears wanted to come, but they only hovered at the rims of his eyes. Well-bred children were expected to be stoic, even as their lives crumbled around them. Only Taehyun, his round eyes shimmering with unshed tears, seemed to be the only one who understood Kai’s unbearable grief.

Black cholera had claimed his mama, a cruel and agonizing death. His father, wanting to protect him from seeing her face, had insisted on a closed casket, forbidding him from looking. There would be no farewell kiss, no final words, no proper goodbye.

Notes:

basically yeonbinkai crimson peak omegaverse but happy ending. I’ve outlined everything and finished 8 chapters. I will update them when I finish editing. Thanks for reading! All credit to crimson peak.

Chapter 2: First Meeting

BUFFALO, NEW YORK, 1899

The sky was a canvas of fluffy white clouds after continuous rainy days. Kai hurried across the muddy streets, passing pedestrians and motor cars. He’d carefully chosen his attire for this auspicious occasion: a burnished gold waistcoat, echoing the color of his blonde hair, worn over a crisp white shirt and a neat black tie. He radiated the bright energy of a young man brimming with ambition.

Today was special. For the first time, Kai had something he had crafted with his own hands, a product to sell, and a potential buyer. He lifted the heavy parcel in his arms, a secret smile on his lips. After making sure he made it out of the streets unblemished, he entered the busy commercial building where he had business to carry on.

He took it for a good omen when Kang Taehyun, now Dr. Kang Taehyun, called out to him as he came down the stairs, stopping to meet him as Kai ascended. They hadn’t seen each other in ages. Taehyun had been away in England, studying ophthalmology. Kai was struck by how much the other had matured into his alpha features. The boyish roundness had vanished, replaced by a more sculpted face, and his shoulders looked broader beneath his coat.

“Kai,” Taehyun said, his voice laced with delight, “you know I’m setting up my office?” His surprised face seemed to assume that Kai knew he’d returned from his study.Taeri never said a word to me, he thought, a bit put out. But then again, he hadn’t exactly been keeping up with the Kangs. He hadn’t been keeping up with anyone, a social failing he was vaguely aware of.

“I’ve an appointment with Mr. Coulson at ten,” Kai informed him as a change of subject, “He’s going to look at my manuscript and see if he wants to publish it.”

He had begun the book before Taehyun had left for medical school, reading sections to him when they had a chance to meet, more often than one might expect for an unmarried alpha and omega.

His friend’s smile grew at the mention of the completion of his book. “You know it’s only nine o’clock, right?” he reminded.

“I need to make a few corrections first.” He replied sheepishly. Kai thought about the planned revisions and mentally ran through the details, and then became aware that Taehyun had just asked him to stop by his new office soon. He was saying something about uncanny pictures he wished to show him. Kai gave him his full attention. He was genuinely happy to see his friend. They used to be inseparable before they presented, but time and their differences slowly made them keep their distance as they grew up.

“I have to help Mother,” the brunette was saying. “She’s throwing a party tomorrow for Taeri’s suitor. Why don’t you come?”

They were talking in the middle of the staircase, and as if on cue, Taeri, radiant and poised, appeared at the top. Trailing behind her were her usual social-climbing companions and her mother, Mrs. Kang. They were dressed to the nines.

“We met Taeri’s suitor at the British Museum,” Mrs. Kang announced, her voice ringing with self-satisfaction. “Last fall, during our visit to Taehyun.”

“You wouldn’t believe it. He’s so handsome,” Taeri gushed, all rosy blushes. She looked genuinely smitten. Kai managed a smile, genuinely happy for her. The other omega’s dream was to be well married, to find an alpha who would provide for her and elevate her status. It was a path he hadn’t considered for himself.

“And he has now crossed the ocean, bringing his brother only to see Taeri again,” Mrs. Kang continued, preening.

“Mother, he’s here on business,” Taeri protested mildly, a blush creeping up her neck. She smoothed down her already immaculate dress, clearly enjoying the attention.

Mrs. Kang went on, “Apparently, he’s a baronet.”

One of Taeri’s friends piped up, asking what a baronet was. Mrs. Kang waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, just some sort of aristocrat… you know”

“A man who lives off the labor of others. A parasite with a title.” The mumbled words escaped Kai before he could stop them, and he instantly regretted them. Taehyun suppressed a laugh behind his hand, his eyes dancing with amusement.

Mrs. Kang’s eyebrows shot up as her face hardened.

“I’m sorry,” Kai winced. He didn’t want to step on the wrong side of Mrs. Kang.

But Mrs. Kang wasn’t one to let any challenge to her pride go unanswered. She straightened her shoulders, her gaze fixed on Kai with laser-like intensity.

“Well, this ‘parasite’ is perfectly charming and a magnificent dancer. But I suppose that wouldn’t interest you, would it, Kai?” she retorted, her voice laced with acid. “Married life isn’t for everyone, you know. You just keep writing your novels.” She punctuated her words with a tight, knowing smile, implying that Kai’s literary pursuits were a poor choice for an omega.

“Mother,” Taehyun chided softly, his amusement replaced with a note of concern. The alpha could see the hurt in Kai’s eyes, despite the carefully schooled expression.

Forcing a smile, Kai said, “Best of luck, Taeri. I’m afraid I have an appointment to keep,” and quickly excused himself from the scene.

 

---

Kai claimed a spot in the library and laid out his manuscript. With a practiced hand, he uncapped his inkwell, preparing to edit. Almost immediately, his pen leaked, staining his fingers. Irritation prickled at him. He sighed and smoothed back tendrils of his hair, a nervous habit, and unknowingly left his fingerprints on his forehead.

Oblivious to his now disheveled state, Kai headed to Mr. Coulson’s office. He took a seat stiffly before the publisher’s desk, and the man immediately mentioned the ink stains on his forehead and hands with a pointed face.

He churned with well-concealed anxiety as Mr. Coulson flipped through the pages of his manuscript. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the soft rustle of paper.

Finally, Mr. Coulson sighed, setting the manuscript down, “A ghost story,” he stated, his voice flat. “Your father didn’t tell me it was a ghost story.” Each syllable was laden with disappointment.

“I was anticipating… something else. Something more aligned with your… profile. He trailed off, a subtle, yet unmistakable, implication hanging in the air. “Perhaps a romance, or a tale of societal struggle. Something… appropriate.” Kai’s smile faltered.

“So,” Mr. Coulson continued, changing the subject abruptly. “How is your father? In good health, I hope?”

 

---

At Huening Manor, the younger master Kai crumpled on the chair in his study. The lively energy that usually crackled around him was completely extinguished. The ornate leather of the chair seemed to swallow him whole, and the manuscript lying forgotten on the table.

Smelling the omega’s distress, Beomgyu entered the study carefully. He held a steaming cup, the delicate porcelain a contrast to the heavy atmosphere. He didn’t speak, merely placing the tea on the table within reach.

The beta has spent the last seven years working as a servant at Huening Manor. There’s a degree of respect and even affection towards the omega. The silence that followed was comfortable and understanding as he knew Kai would speak when he was ready.

Kai took a sip of the tea, but the familiar comfort felt muted. Finally, the younger sighed a long, drawn-out sound that seemed to carry all his frustration. “Years, gyu. I’ve spent years on this manuscript. Pouring my heart and soul into it. And it’s just… not good enough.” He pushed the manuscript further away.

“Maybe I’m just not cut out for this. Maybe I should just… give up.” Kai continued.

The older finally stepped closer. “Kai,” he said softly and gestured towards the manuscript. “There are more ways to get your work out there, you know,” he tried to inject a note of lightness into his voice, “ Rejection hurts I know, but it’s part of the process, right?”

Kai looked at the manuscript and traced the edge of one of the pages with a finger before looking back at Beomgyu. “You think so?” he asked, his voice laced with fragility.

The older nodded back at him reassuringly. He wanted to pull the omega into a hug, to physically absorb some of the sadness he was radiating. “I know so,” he said firmly.

“You’re incredibly talented, Kai. You just need to find the right eyes to see it. You can polish it up, send it to different publishers. You’ll figure it out.” He reached out and gently squeezed the younger’s shoulder with a promise of support.

 

---

“He said it needed a love story. Can you believe that?”

Kai was furious all over again. He leaned forward in his chair in the golden dining room of their home, where they were taking their meal together. The evening light painted the wallpaper and alabaster sconces in warm hues, reflecting in the polished silver serving dishes.

His father offered a placating smile. “Everyone falls in love, dear. Even omegas.” Huening senior was dressed for dinner, every hair on his blonde head carefully combed, a contrast to Kai’s wild, untamed hair.

“He said that just because I’m an omega,” Kai grumbled as the maids carried elegant platters. “Why? Why must an omega always write about love? How dare I, as an omega, aspire to write a ghost story?” he finished with heavy sarcasm.

“Well, I’ll have a word with Coulson on Monday morning at the club,” Mr. Huening offered.

Kai huffed. “You most certainly will not. I will handle this myself.”

His father’s gaze was gentle, but then a slight frown creased his brow as he leaned forward, studying Kai. “When you met Coulson, were your fingers stained with ink like that?”

Kai grimaced, the memory of the smudge on his forehead flashing in his mind. He’d only noticed it after the meeting. No wonder the publisher didn’t take him seriously, and only entertained Kai because of his father’s face.

“Father,” he said, his tone suddenly saccharine, “I would like to type my manuscript in your office.”

“Type it?”

“I’m submitting it to The Atlantic Monthly,” He leaned forward as if secretly planning a master plan. “I don’t want anything—not even my handwriting to give me away. I will sign it, K.K. Huening. That will keep them guessing.” The omega explained with a hint of excitement. He enjoyed the idea of anonymity, devoid of any prejudice based on his secondary gender. He wanted to be judged solely on his words.

 

---

Yesterday’s rejection hadn’t dampened Kai’s spirits as he entered his father’s bustling engineering offices. The high-ceiling, airy rooms vibrated with activity. Engineers, clerks, and assistants buzzed around miniature models, blueprints, and technical drawings, all part of the vast operation overseen by Mr. Nabel Huening.

His father had built some of the finest buildings in Buffalo and in many other cities as well. Buildings of stone, brick, and iron that would carry his name and his vision down through the centuries.

“I don’t understand how you can concentrate through all this noise,” said his father’s assistant, as she passed by the desk that Kai had arranged for himself: typewriter before him, manuscript to the side. He shrugged, grinning as he carefully pressed his finger into the first key. He went on typing, growing in confidence as the clacking of keys quickened in succession. Lost in his work, he didn’t notice the figure standing in front of his desk until the visitor coughed.

Kai’s gaze lifted.

He met eyes sharp and clever with a hint of gentleness. Held captive by the intense stare, he blinked. The visitor’s face was angular and striking, framed by dark, impeccably styled hair, save for a few disarranged strands that fell across his forehead. A once-splendid dark blue velvet suit, tailored to emphasize his lean physique, clung to him. His outfit did not speak of poverty precisely, but he was certainly not well off. Yet he acknowledged Kai’s scrutiny with a courtly grace, hinting at refined manners and a privileged past. The man also carried a box, wooden and polished. Kai remained impassive, concealing his thoughts, and waited for the visitor to speak.

“Forgive the interruption,” the man said, his upper-class British accent falling tantalizingly on his ears, “I have an appointment with Mr. Nabel Huening, but I wasn’t told where he was in the building.” His smile was a bit tentative, and Kai realized that he was nervous. That only added to his attractiveness.

“Oh,” Kai mumbled, a little flustered. “He’s probably upstairs. The third door on the right.”

“Thank you.” Instead of heading for the staircase, the man lingered, his gaze falling on the manuscript beside Kai. “Tell me,” he continued, tilting his head towards the stack of papers, “you don’t have to transcribe all that, do you?” He smiled again.

“It’s hardly a chore,” Kai replied. “It’s mine.”

The man’s eyebrows rose, and a subtle surprise flickered across his face. “Yours?” He reached a hand towards the manuscript, then hesitated. “May I?” Kai, caught between longing to continue his work and the stranger’s presence, nodded curtly. As the man reached over, a distinct scent washed over Kai: cool crispy peppermint, a touch of spiciness, with slightly woody undercurrent, definitely an alpha.

“This is a piece of fiction, is it not?” he asked.

Kai nodded, his stomach churning. He couldn’t decipher the man’s expression, was it intrigue or horror? He focused intently on the table, disliking having his work read in front of him.

“This is…” The man’s voice held surprise. “This is quite good, don’t you think?”

Delighted, Kai tilted his head back, eager to gauge the man’s true reaction. “Is it?”

The alpha shrugged, a gesture that seemed to say the answer was obvious. “It’s captured my attention.”

He sounded sincere. The stranger actually liked Kai’s story. Not since Taehyun had read his work had Kai received any real feedback. And Taehyun had listened carefully, but hadn’t provided commentary except to say things such as, “That’s a nice description of the countryside,” or, “I’m sorry, I’m confused. Is the ghost real or not?” This, however, felt different. This felt like genuine appreciation.

“Thank you,” Kai said, settling back into his chair. “Er, didn’t you say you had an appointment?”

“I’m rather early actually,” he said, smiling apologetically. “Oh, forgive me. What you must think of me, demanding to read your manuscript and not giving you my name.” He held out a hand. “Sir Choi Yeonjun. I’m here on business.”

Well-spoken, English, fine clothes, Sir… with a start, Kai realized that this must be the baronet that Mrs. Kang had mentioned the other day.

Realizing that he was still holding his hand out to him, Kai took it. He noticed a strange flicker in the alpha’s eyes, and then a subtle deepening of his breathing as he inhaled Kai’s scent.

“Huening Kai,” Kai said, and the man looked surprised.

“Nabel Huening’s son?” he asked. Kai nodded, wondering how much he’d heard about him.

“You should probably go up,” he said. “My father doesn’t like late people.”

“Of course,” the alpha replied. “It was a pleasure.”

Kai nodded, unsure of how to reply, and breathed a sigh of relief when he finally carried his box and moved to the staircase. After quickly looking around to make sure there was no one to see, he laid the back of his hands against his cheeks to cool the flush.

What is wrong with me? He wondered. I never flush with an Alpha. Everything about the alpha was immensely interesting. The way the man carried himself, reverently cradling that wooden box, sparked a curiosity within him. He had a sudden urge to know why he was here. Abandoning his manuscript, Kai rose from his desk and headed upstairs.

When he arrived, the man had already entered the meeting room. Peeking through the open doorway, Kai recognized some of the city’s most influential businessmen gathered inside. All attention was fixed on the young Sir Choi Yeonjun, who stood at the room’s center.

“The Choi clay mines have been the Royal supplier of the scarlet clay since 1796.” His voice was firm and authoritative, and all traces of nervousness vanished. Intrigued, Kai entered the room, quietly closing the door behind him. His father’s colleagues, accustomed to Kai’s silent observations paid him little attention. But Sir Yeonjun’s gaze flickered in his direction. The omega was both embarrassed and pleased that he had proved to be a distraction to the alpha.

The young aristocrat opened the wooden box and pulled out a scale model of what Kai recognized from his many days in his father’s office as a mining drill. He had connected the drill to a little brass boiler, and with a theatrical hiss of steam, the burnished brass levels and gears started moving. The miniature was charming, and also quite impressive, for the men leaned forward as they studied it. Little buckets crept upward, and he could just picture them scooping out ruby-red clay and depositing it on a wagon.

“This is a clay harvester of my own design,” Sir Choi said. “It matches the output of a ten-man crew. Transports the clay upwards as it digs deep. This machine can revolutionize mining as we know it.”

The men began to applaud, and Kai was pleased for the earnest young alpha. What a clever inventor he was. Clever and handsome. Taeri was a lucky girl…

Then Kai noted that among all those present, his father was the only one not applauding. In fact, he was scowling.

“Turn it off,” his father barked, “please. Who built that?”

The alpha inclined his head. “I built and designed the model myself.”

“Have you tested it? Full scale?”

“I’m very close, sir, but with the funding—”

“So all you have is a toy and some fancy words,” his father interrupted.

Sir Choi’s face fell, and Kai felt a rush of protective indignation on his behalf. Nabel Huening had every right to question him, of course, but his tone was quite dismissive. Just like Mr. Coulson.

His father lifted the document that had been resting beside him and examined it closely before continuing. “You’ve already attempted to secure funding in London, Edinburgh, and Milan—unsuccessfully.”

The young alpha raised his brows just a bit, “Yes, sir. That’s correct.”

Mr. Huening rose, his voice now laced with a sharper tone. “And now you’re here.” He paused, then continued, “The men at this table, we all built our success through honest, tireless effort. Almost all of us.”

A series of knowing glances passed between the men. Mr. Huening’s implication was clear: while they had earned their positions through hard work, Sir Choi had not.

“I started as a steel worker, raising buildings so that I could own them,” Kai’s father said, as he approached Choi, hands raised. “Rough hands. They reflect who I am. Now, you sir…”

He gripped Sir Choi’s hands, the young man’s back stiffened slightly. Perhaps he didn’t like to be touched. Kai wondered what it would be like to touch him to feel his fingertips, maybe even his pouty lips.

And he should not be thinking about such things.

“You have the softest hands I’ve ever felt,” his father announced. “In America, we rely on effort, not privilege. That is how we built this country.”

But he’s being unfair, Kai thought. Sir Choi told him that he designed and built the model himself. It must have taken some to visualize and construct such a revolutionary machine. It occurred to him that the alpha was a creative person like himself. And he too was about to be rejected.

His father moved away from Sir Choi. The baronet’s sharp eyes flared with passion, and he raised his chin.

“I am here with all that I possess, sir.” He spoke respectfully and with humility. “A name, a small plot of land, and the determination to make it flourish. I only ask for your time, and the opportunity to demonstrate to you, and these gentlemen, that my will is as unwavering as your own.”

Well done, very well said, Kai thought, and as Sir Choi’s glance shifted toward him, Kai sensed that it was his time to go now. As he left the room, it took all of his willpower not to turn back for one last glance at Kang Taeri’s suitor.

Chapter 3: Kang Family Party

Summary:

Soobin is finally here!

Huddled in their greatcoats, under umbrellas, the walkers hurried past Huening Manor to avoid getting wet, while inside the servants turned on the gas lamps.

The soft glow of the lamp illuminated Huening Senior as he stood before the mirror, meticulously combing back his blond hair. Even at sixty, age hadn’t diminished his handsome features. Kai, already cozy in his nightshirt, watched with a quiet fondness, a glass of water and a small dish of pills clutched in his hands. Kai offered him the water and medicine as he finished with the hair.

“I wish you’d reconsider and come to the party tonight. Mrs. Kang went to a lot of trouble. Besides,” the older man grunted, “the little baronet will be there. Apparently, he has taken an interest in young Miss Kang.”

While Taehyun and Kai were inseparable in childhood, Kai and Taeri were never close. This distance had rooted in a childhood incident. After Kai’s mother tragically passed away, he confided in his friends, including Taeri, that he saw her ghost. The innocent declaration was met with ridicule from Taeri and her friends, who dismissed it as childish fantasy.

When Taehyun who’s usually protective of his younger sister heard this incident, he sternly scolded her for her insensitivity. Since then Taeri stopped making fun of Kai and they were merely acquaintances. Even without the incident they probably wouldn’t be close. Taeri’s passions lay in shopping and socializing while Kai was more interested in stories and writing.

Kai wondered if Taeri appreciate Sir. Choi beyond the allure of his charm. Was she drawn to the person beneath the facade, or was she simply enamored by the advantages his title represented? Perhaps that was all Sir. Yeonjun expected from an omega. Kai’s own father, however, had raised him differently. As the heir, he had the luxury of being independent and selective about a spouse.

A frown creased his father’s brow as he finished the last of the water. “There’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way. I can’t put my finger on it.” He shrugged. “And I hate that I can’t.”

“You were too hard on him,” Kai countered.

“Was I? Perhaps that’s simply my style, my dear.”

“What I saw was a visionary man facing defeat. Did you not notice his suit? Exquisitely tailored, yet clearly a decade old. And his shoes, handmade but worn thin,” Kai pointed out.

His father raised an eyebrow. “You noticed far more than I let on to him, didn’t you?”

Kai blushed.

“Regardless,” his father continued, “he’ll have his chance. The boardroom wants to hear more about his proposal, despite my misgivings.”

That pleased Kai. Just as he assisted his father with his jacket, the doorbell chimed.

“That will be young Dr. Kang,” his father announced, genuine affection coloring his voice. “He’s brought his new motorcar to pick me up. Come, see it and say hello. He’s always been awfully fond of you.” His father started towards the hallway.

They descended the staircase together. “I know that, Father.” People often mistook the closeness between Taehyun and Kai for something romantic. Fortunately for Mrs. Kang, Kai knew their bond was purely platonic; the alpha simply adored him in a non-romantic way.

The door opened to pouring rain, and Taehyun, strikingly handsome in formal attire. His brown hair was swept back and neater than usual, and his eyes shone when he caught sight of the omega. Kai grinned back at him, not at all embarrassed to be seen with his nightshirt.

“Good evening, Mr. Huening… Kai,” he greeted.

“My, don’t you look dashing, Taehyun,” Kai teased.

“Oh, you like it? It’s just something I threw together,” he bantered.

“Shouldn’t Kai join us at the party tonight, Taehyun?” said his father.

“I was rather hoping he would,” Taehyun smiled. “But Kai likes his solitude more than social gatherings.”

Kai regarded the two men fondly. “You guys enjoy yourselves.” Then he whispered to Taehyun, “Please don’t let him drink too much.”

As the doors of Huening Manor shut behind them, Taehyun shielded Mr. Huening with his umbrella, escorting him to the motorcar. He wasn’t surprised, but still felt a pang of disappointment that Kai had chosen to stay home. It stung him a bit that even his recent return hadn’t been enough for the omega to dress up and share a dance with him.

Once they were inside, Taehyun steered the car into the rain-slicked street. If only Kai had attended the party. The omega’s presence at the party would have brought a ray of sunshine into a tedious rainy night.

 

---

After his father and Taehyun’s departure, Kai lay sprawled on his large bed, the thick tome resting open on his chest. He wasn’t truly reading, more like absorbing the comforting weight of the book and the escape it offered. Outside, raindrops spattered the windows in a frantic rhythm. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a low, guttural growl that vibrated through the walls of the manor, making the chandeliers shimmer ever so slightly.

Father and Taehyun would be at the party soon, swallowed by the swarm of the elite. He could almost picture it: the crackling fire in the grand hearth, casting dancing shadows across the faces of the guests, the warm glow of a hundred candles transforming the ballroom into a haven of light against the stormy night. He could just see Sir Choi, charming and proper as ever, encased in his impeccably tailored suit.

He sighed, a puff of air ruffled the edges of the book’s pages. The thought of the party, usually as appealing as lukewarm coffee and small talk, was surprisingly interesting tonight.

Suddenly, a light knock sounded on his door. Before he could even register a response, the handle turned with a soft click, Beomgyu’s head peeking in.

“There is Sir Choi Yeonjun at the door,” the beta said. “He’s dripping wet and most insistent on coming in.”

“Choi Yeonjun?” Kai fought to maintain his composure. “At this hour? Did you tell him father was out?”

Beomgyu bobbed his head, his dark hair flopping slightly. “I told him that Kai. He won’t go away. He wants to talk to you.”

Kai was stunned. “It’s out of the question, gyu.” It’s beyond improper to receive an alpha in his nightshirt and without his father in the house.

“Send him away.”

The beta shrugged helplessly. “I tried.”

“And?” Kai pressed, his brow furrowing in disbelief.

“He won’t go away,” Beomgyu repeated.

Confused, agitated, and against his better judgment, Kai found himself descending the stairs.

He saw Sir Yeonjun in the foyer, his dark hair plastered against his forehead, glistening with rainwater that traced paths down his pale cheeks. He was impeccably dressed, even soaked; a black coat, a white vest and tie, trousers revealing the polished tips of a pair of leather dancing boots.

“Mr. Huening, are you alright? You seem quite pale.” The alpha’s eyes narrowed with genuine concern.

“I am not too well, Sir Choi, I’m sorry to say. And father’s not home,” Kai replied, his voice a little weaker than he intended.

“I know that. I saw him leave.” A beat of silence hung in the air, and then he added, “I waited in the rain for him to leave.”

“Oh?” Kai managed, his brow shot up in surprise. Why would Sir Yeonjun be lurking in the rain?

“I know that he is going to the party at the Kang Manor,” the alpha continued. “Which is my destination too.”

Now, Kai was thoroughly confused.

“But that’s at Kang Manor, sir. This is Huening Manor. You are very lost.” Kai pointed out.

“That I am,” Sir Yeonjun agreed, his tone surprisingly candid. “And I desperately need your help.” He took a step closer, closing the distance between them. Kai felt like being windswept by a shore and suddenly smelled the rain clinging to his clothes.

“Help with what?” Kai asked, his heart beginning to pound a little faster.

“Well, Mr. Huening, the language for one.” His smile was rueful, a flash of genuine self-deprecation that softened the sharp angles of his face. “As you can plainly see, I do not speak a word of American.” He gestured vaguely with his hand, “And I fear navigating this… culture… proves to be significantly more challenging without it.”

At that Kai mustered a small smile. A sophisticated alpha, helpless due to a language barrier. It was almost a laughable excuse.

“Sir Choi, I truly can’t,” Kai said, trying to refuse.

“Please, am I to make even more of a fool out of myself?” Sir Yeonjun pleaded, his eyes locking with Kai’s. They were surprisingly intense, a mix of desperation and something else Kai couldn’t quite decipher. “Why would you want to stay here all alone?” His voice low and persuasive, the alpha was practically begging Kai to join him to the party.

Kai gazed back up the stairs toward his room, the familiar space suddenly feeling smaller and emptier than ever before. What did he have to lose?

 

---

This party can’t get any worse, Taehyun thought as he gazed around at the glittering assembly of Buffalo high society. Candles gleamed and a profusion of beautifully arranged flowers lent an air of magic to the Kang Manor. Ladies in exquisite gowns mingled with gentlemen in tailcoats and gloves.

Yet, for his sister, Taeri, the night was anything but magical. Though she was holding her chin high, it was becoming quite apparent that the guest of honor, her suitor, Sir Choi Yeonjun had stood her up.

They had gone to all this effort and this expense, publicly declaring the regard in which the Kang family held Sir Yeonjun and his brother, and the alpha was not here. His absence was the high of rudeness and it’s frankly hurtful to break even the most resilient heart. Taeri might be spoiled, occasionally jealous, and sometimes less than kind to Kai, but she didn’t deserve this public humiliation.

Taehyun, frustrated, had sought out Choi Soobin, Sir Choi Yeonjun’s brooding, dark-haired brother. Surely, the beta would know the whereabouts of his notoriously late brother. He had found the man lounging by the refreshment table, a picture of languid indifference.

“Do you know when your brother will arrive?” Taehyun had inquired, trying to keep the frustration from his voice.

Choi Soobin, however, had merely shrugged. “Yeonjun will be here soon enough,” he’d said, his tone nonchalant. Taehyun knew that he should not press, but his patience wore thin.

Then his mother had announced that Mr. Soobin had kindly agreed to play some pieces on their piano. All eyes turned towards the designated performance space, and any further conversation about his brother was terminated.

Taehyun watched as Choi Soobin made his way to the piano. His unswept hair, the color of a raven’s wing, fell carelessly across his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. Those eyes, the color of the sea on a stormy day, were framed by pale cheeks, giving him a sensual quality.

His lips, full and naturally red were pressed together in a silent expression, hinting at a depth of feeling he kept carefully concealed. As he seated himself on the piano bench, the high neck of his fresh blood colored shirt seemed to shimmer in the soft light, drawing the eye and accentuating the length of his elegant neck.

The room fell silent as the lush, romantic melodies of Chopin filled the air. Most guests stood, captivated by the music. Soobin sat with perfect posture, leaning slightly towards the keys, yet an aura of coldness and unapproachability surrounded him, a contrast to the passionate music he played.

As the crowd broke into applause, Choi Soobin rose from his seat and dipped his head in modesty. Then murmurs rippled through the room, and attention shifted from the beta. Like the others, Taehyun turned from the beta to see what the cause was, and his lips parted in surprise.

Sir Choi Yeonjun, the honored guest, had finally arrived. And he hadn’t come alone.

On his arm, radiating elegance was Kai. He was stunning, breathtakingly so, in a champagne-colored satin blouse. Delicate lace cascaded down the front, and ruffles danced around his collar, lending him an air of sweetness. The subtle blush on his cheeks hinting at how the attention was affecting the omega.

Their appearance, their proximity, the easy way Sir Yeonjun’s hand rested on the small of Kai’s back, all screamed couple, and Taehyun was baffled. Kai had said he was not coming, yet here he was.

I should go see Taeri, he thought. This will upset her, and she has every right. But he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Kai. The omega was a vision, bathed in the golden light of the chandeliers. His cheeks were rosy, his fluffy hair, parted tenderly in the middle, framed his face in a halo of soft curls, and his lips, always full and inviting, looked impossibly kissable. He couldn’t help the way his heart played its own melody of yearning, a bittersweet tune of longing and regret.

He doubted, however, that Kai’s heartstrings were strumming a tune for him. He was still his childhood playmate and not a man who might win the omega’s affections. Certainly no match for the tall, dark-haired aristocrat before him. Someone who, he feared with a sinking feeling in his stomach, may have already captured Kai’s heart. The easy smiles they exchanged, the subtle touches, felt like a crushing judgment on a dream he hadn’t even dared to fully dream.

He swallowed his consternation as the pair approached. Kai, bless his well-meaning heart, seemed oblivious to the tension in the air. Kai regarded Taehyun with a fondness in his eyes as he and Choi finally stood before him.

“Taehyun, may I introduce Sir Choi Yeonjun?” Then he turned to Choi and said, “Sir Yeonjun, this is Dr. Kang Taehyun. The best man in town if you’re feeling sick.”

Perhaps Kai meant it as a compliment, but Taehyun felt damned by faint praise. Was that all he was to him? However, he said politely, “That’s quite an appearance. I’m Taeri’s brother, sir. I’ve heard so much about you.” There. He had reminded the other Alpha that he had offered Taeri hope back in London, and politeness required that a gentleman treat her with decorum now.

“A pleasure.” Choi slightly bowed, his voice smooth and even.

Taeri and his mother approached on Choi’s other side, their faces carefully composed. Sir Choi gestured to his brother, who joined them.

“And, Kai, this is Soobin—my brother.”

“Charmed, Mr. Huening,” Choi Soobin said, extending a cool hand. His eyes, sharp and calculating, raked over Kai from head to toe, assessing him with a clinical precision that made Kai squirm. “You’ve managed to delay my brother quite a bit.” A hint of amusement laced his tone, but it felt more like a probe than a genuine pleasantry.

And then he turned towards his brother, “Taeri was growing awfully desperate. You see?” He gestured towards her with a glance. “She is waiting for a gentleman to dance a proper waltz.”

Soobin then lowered his head near his brother’s neck, “I trust you will do her a favor.”

Out of the corner of his eyes Taehyun saw his sister smile. So everything was mended then. Good. He felt so relieved. And now he should ask for a dance with Kai. The bright side was that Kai was here now, and that was wonderful.

And then he tensed as his mother approached Kai. Her smile was forced and her eyes were hard as diamonds.

Mother, please don’t stir up a scene.

“Kai, what a surprise this is,” Mrs. Kang bit off.

Kai flushed, indicating that he knew he was rather in the wrong. He had already declined the invitation and to show up on the arm of Taeri’s suitor was an insult.

“We were not expecting you for dinner,” his mother added.

“I know,” Kai said remorsefully, his gaze lowered, “and I am terribly sorry for this imposition. I am sure there is no place for me and—”

“Oh, don’t worry my child,” she interrupted him. “Everyone has a place. I will make sure you find yours.”

Taehyun inwardly winced at the insult.

Over the piano, Choi Soobin settled himself, a silent promise of music about to fill the room. Sir Yeonjun, with a deliberate grace retrieved a tall, slender candle from a nearby table. The candlelight flickered, highlighting the curve of his nose.

“The waltz,” the alpha announced, his voice a low, resonant hum. “It is said that the true test of a perfect waltz is for it to be so sweet, delicate, and so smooth that a candle flame will not be extinguished in the hand of the lead dancer. Now,” he paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the air, “that requires the perfect partner.”

Taeri, of course, Taehyun mentally thought. His sister would undoubtedly be enthralled by such a grand declaration.

Sir Yeonjun turned… All eyes followed him, anticipating the obvious choice. But instead of approaching Taeri, he stepped towards the taller figure beside her and extended his hand to Kai.

“Would you be mine?”

Everyone in the room gasped. Kai’s eyes widened, and he looked demurely down. Taehyun saw his lips move but he could not hear his reply.

 

---

Kai stared at Sir Yeonjun’s offered hand, acutely aware of the ripple of whispers and sidelong glances. Did the alpha even realize the scandal he was causing, the shame it would bring on Kai?

He couldn’t bring himself to look in Taeri’s direction, his gaze fixed on the floor as he silently pleaded with the alpha to observe the social etiquette. These were his friends, his peers, and their good opinion mattered, no matter how desperately he would love to dance with the alpha.

“I don’t think so, thank you,” Kai said in a voice only meant for the alpha to hear. Yes, he had arrived on his arm, but he was not here with him as a partner. “But I’m sure Taeri would be delighted,” he added bluntly.

Sir Yeonjun’s smile remained unwavering. “I dare say, but I asked you.” Turning to the onlookers, he announced, “Please make some space.”

Before Kai could formulate a protest, before he could even fully process what was happening, he found himself being gently but firmly guided towards the center of the ballroom.

“Taeri’s a very sweet girl, you know,” Kai murmured, his gaze darting around the opulent ballroom, anywhere but at the intense eyes fixed on him. “Kind and beautiful. I am flattered, but—”

“Is it so hard to accept that you’re beautiful?” The alpha said softly. He stepped closer, closing the already minimal distance between them. “As well as lovely and intelligent?” He reached out, a single finger tracing the delicate curve of Kai’s jawline.

“I can’t do this, I can’t. Please,” Kai protested.

Across the room, Choi Soobin put his hands on the keyboard of the grand piano.

And Sir Yeonjun’s gaze was steady. It bored into Kai. “I’ve always just closed my eyes to things that made me uncomfortable. It works wonderfully. Won’t you try it?” His voice laced with a seductive persuasion that was hard to resist, and Kai knew that he was going to waltz with the alpha.

“I don’t want to close my eyes,” he replied. “I want to keep them open.”

A sweeping melody rose from the piano as Kai’s fingers descended into Sir Yeonjun’s outstretched palm. His soft touch electrified the omega, and the dance began. Gliding, his hand resting firmly on the small of Kai’s back, the alpha led him in simple but majestic steps, their bodies moving in perfect unison.

Their gazes locked, Sir Yeonjun’s face swimming before the omega, his expression was confident and…joyous? He was finding real pleasure in waltzing around the ballroom with Kai. A genuine smile played on his lips.

The soft feel of the older man’s hands in his, the captivating smile, and the effortless grace with which he led the dance. The attraction Kai had felt in the meeting room intensified, binding them together as they glided on the polished floor. The crowd faded into a hazy background, and they had entered a private world where no one else existed. At least, not until the last move of the dance was over.

Then, Sir Yeonjun’s brother rose abruptly from his seat and left the room. With one last, gentle look at Kai, the alpha took his leave and followed his brother out, while he took Kai’s heart with him.

Notes:

Tonight was scandalous. Also poor Taehyun was pining and Kai was oblivious af.

Chapter 4: A Walk in the Park

The bell above the office door jingled, announcing the arrival of the gaunt figure. Nabel Huening who’s usually composed and jovial, seemed deep in thought. He looked up as the man entered and gestured wearily to the armchair. “Thank you for coming so quickly, David.”

He picked up a small, folded slip of paper from the desk and slid it across the polished surface. “I need you to look into these two brothers. Something’s not quite right about them.” The paper bore only two names, “Sir Choi Yeonjun” and “Choi Soobin.”

David picked up the paper, his gaze lingering on the title prefacing the elder brother’s name. He raised an eyebrow. Nabel anticipated it. “Yes, Sir Choi Yeonjun inherited a title. Doesn’t matter. These are their names. I need you to investigate for me. Dig deep. Spare no expense. I want results.” He pushed a check across the desk, “As soon as possible.”

 

---

The recent downpour had finally stopped. After days of relentless rain, families flocked to the park, eager to soak in the sunny weather. Among them was Kai, spending the day with the Choi brothers and bringing Beomgyu along as his chaperone.

“Thank you for your invitation,” Kai said, meeting Sir Yeonjun and his brother by one of the benches in the park. He felt slightly out of place sitting with the brothers while the small group, comprised of the Kang siblings and their friends, was on a picnic a little far away from them.

“Not at all,” Sir Yeonjun replied as he held out a gloved hand. “Come, walk with us.”

A delicate parasol shaded Kai as they strolled side-by-side, the rhythm of their footsteps on the gravel path the only sound breaking the silence they share.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu was laying out a picnic mat on the green grass. He was arranging the items from the basket. The beta seemed content to observe them from a distance.

They must have made quite a spectacle as they walked: Kai with his bright sky blue suit between the two brothers who were both dressed in coal black. He felt walled in by their respective scents— slightly spicy, slightly salty, mingling with his sweet fruity scent. The fresh scent of sea salt with undeniable sage must be Soobin’s.

“Does Mrs. Kang often give galas?” Sir Yeonjun asked.

“If there’s not one at least every two months, then something is wrong.” They smiled, laughing quietly. The part of the park they were walking through was bustling with families taking advantage of the pleasant weather. Picnic blankets were spread out on the manicured lawns, laden with baskets overflowing with food. Children chased pigeons, their laughter echoing through the air.

Suddenly, two particularly boisterous children ran between them, shrieking playfully as they weaved through the legs of the strolling adults. Kai, caught off guard by their sudden appearance stumbled slightly. His fingers brushed against Yeonjun’s sleeve before finding purchase on the man’s strong, steady hands. The omega laughed nervously when he realized the position they were in.

Displeased by the near collision and the disruption, Soobin murmured a rushed excuse.His face paled a shade under the warm afternoon sun as he swept off into the trees. The beta was a tall, imposing black shadow punctuated only by the glint of a dangling silver watch chain swinging from his waistcoat.

Kai watched him go, his laughter dying in his throat, “Is he alright?”

“He likes to be alone,” Sir Yeonjun said. “You shouldn’t worry.”

They walked in silence for a while, taking in the nature and the people around them. A breeze ruffled the yellowing leaves of the trees.

“I’m sorry for how I pressured you into opening the dance,” the alpha said after a few minutes. “I could see how uncomfortable you were.”

“Not at all,” Kai replied, but he did not look at him. “It’s merely that —” he stopped. This had been weighing on him for the last days since the gala. “Baron —”

“Call me Yeonjun, please.”

“Yeonjun,” Kai repeated uncertainly. “It’s merely that I’m sure you were flustered and so turned to me because I was nearest. I don’t — what I’m trying to say is that I don’t expect any sort of —”

Yeonjun frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Someone like me,” he tried. “I’m sure Mrs. Kang no doubt tried to tell you afterward, that—”

Yeonjun stopped walking, his face confused. He reached out, gently turning Kai to face him. Kai, despite his best efforts, couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Mrs. Kang?” Yeonjun asked. “What did she tell me?”

Kai swallowed, the words tasting like ash in his throat. “That…that I’m not…suitable.”

The alpha remained his face neutral but his hand tightened slightly on Kai’s arm, not painfully, but enough to ground him. “Suitable for what, Kai?”

Kai finally risked a glance up at the intimate way Yeonjun used his name. The older man’s eyes were intense. It made it harder to continue, but he pressed on. “Suitable to be seen with you. To be…anything to you.” He rushed the last words, desperate to get them out.

“And what makes you think you’re unsuitable?” Yeonjun persisted, ignoring Kai’s attempt to deflect.

Kai pulled away, needing the space to breathe. He gestured vaguely at himself. “Look at me, Yeonjun. I’m larger than most alphas. I’m…awkward. I don’t possess the delicate beauty everyone expects of an omega. I’m not what you need.” It sounded silly saying it out loud himself. But the bitterness was palpable, a rancid residue of years of whispered insults and averted gazes.

Yeonjun’s expression softened. “Is that what you truly believe, Kai? That someone’s worth is determined by their size or their adherence to some arbitrary standard of beauty?”

Kai shrugged, unable to articulate the deep-seated insecurity that had plagued him for so long. “It’s what I’ve been shown. Time and time again.”

The older man stepped closer, closing the distance the younger had created.

“Kai,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “Mrs. Kang’s opinions are hers alone. And frankly,” he added, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes, “they’re quite ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?”

Yeonjun nodded. “Absolutely. The idea that your strength, your…presence,” he paused, searching for the right word, “…your essence, is somehow a disadvantage? It’s absurd. I was drawn to you, Kai, because you are you. Not because you fit some outdated notion of what an omega should be.”

He lowered his hand, but the warmth lingered on Kai’s skin. “And as for being ‘flustered’ and turning to the nearest person…that’s not how it happened either. I chose you, Kai. Very deliberately.”

Kai stared at him, his mind reeling. Could it be true? Could Yeonjun genuinely see something beyond the qualities he had always been told made him unsuitable?

“I…” he stammered, struggling to find the words to respond. “I don’t know what to say.”

The older man smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes. “Then don’t say anything, Kai. Just…be yourself. And maybe, give me a chance to show you that what Mrs. Kang and everyone else think doesn’t matter as much as you think it does.”

He held out his hand, palm up. “Shall we continue our walk?”

Kai looked at Yeonjun’s hand, and hesitantly, he placed his own.

“Do you mind if I ask a question?” Kai asked. The older looked back up at him, one eyebrow lifted in a question that mirrored the one in Kai’s own head. This was a dangerous question, venturing into territory that could spoil their tentative connection.

“Were you courting Taeri…?” The question hung in the air, thick with unspoken anxieties and jealousy.

Yeonjun’s face suddenly took on a hooded expression. The warmth in his hand seemed to cool, though he didn’t release Kai’s.

“I’m here on business,” he said, his tone clipped and final, leaving no room for further question. And that was the end of it. Unlike what Mrs. Kang had told before, the alpha came here for the business only, not to court Taeri. The tension in his shoulders eased, and Kai realized just how tightly he had been holding his breath.

 

---

Equipped with tweezers and a glass jar, Soobin was busily collecting butterflies when Kai found him. His steps were light and careful as he stalked his colorful prey. Upon seeing Kai approach, he looked up.

“Where did my brother go?”

“We met Dr. Kang and he fell into conversation,” Kai said. “ and I got bored, so I went to find you.”

The beta merely nodded and paused, hovering over a particularly vibrant one, before making a swift, precise maneuver. “They are ‘Papilio androgenus epidaurus,” he announced as he carefully placed the pretty, fluttering insect into the jar. The butterfly danced against the glass, a tiny jewel momentarily contained within the transparent prison.

“They are dying,” Kai murmured, somewhat stricken.

“They are,” Soobin confirmed, his tone matter of fact. “They take their heat from the sun and when it deserts them, they die.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Not sad,” Soobin retorted, pushing himself back to his feet. “It’s nature. A savage world of things dying or eating each other right beneath our feet. It’s a cycle, not a tragedy.”

Kai grimaced. “That’s absolutely horrible.”

“Not all of it.” Soobin countered. He reached up and plucked a cocoon attached to a tree limb and examined it.

“Look at this. Everything it needs is in there. A perfect world. If I keep it warm and dry, a pretty little thing will hatch.” He smiled at Kai as he held it up. “Back home we have only black moths. Formidable creature, but without beauty. They thrive on the dark and the cold.”

He wrapped the cocoon in a handkerchief and tucked it safely into his pocket.

“What do the black moths feed on?” Kai questioned.

“Butterflies, I’m afraid.” Soobin’s voice was almost bored again, his attention already drifting. He was gazing down at something on the ground, and Kai followed his line of sight. A horrifying scene unfolded before him. An army of ants had pinned down a lovely butterfly. They were devouring it as it quivered. Kai felt a wave of nausea rise within him. He averted his eyes, repulsed.

But Soobin watched avidly, his expression unreadable. There was neither pity nor revulsion in his gaze. He seemed to find a strange kind of beauty in the harsh realities of the natural world.

 

Bathed in the afternoon light, the three of them were sprawled on the picnic blanket. Beomgyu hovered awkwardly at the edge until Kai, noticing his hesitation, smiled, “Come on, just sit with us,” gesturing to the space beside him.

Yeonjun was perched a little higher, propped up on one elbow as he flipped through the pages of Kai’s manuscript, reading them aloud.

“…and then the figure emerged from the shadows and started to move in a hunched posture, as if in pain,” he continued.

Soobin arched his brow and said, “Ghosts? Really? I never imagined that’s what you wrote about.”

Just then, Taehyun peeled himself off from his group a few feet away and settled down next to his friend. “Kai once saw a ghost when he was young and since then has been interested in them,” he announced.

Kai tugged at the edge of the manuscript, his cheeks flushing pink as he tried to discreetly pull it from Yeonjun’s grasp.

Yeonjun blinked. “Really? You saw a ghost?”

“But now he’s more interested in a love story,” Taehyun said, and Kai’s flush deepened. Was Taehyun deliberately trying to tease him?

“The ghosts are a metaphor,” Kai replied. “They represent unresolved trauma and… and things left unsaid.” He hated how defensive he sounded.

“They’ve always fascinated me,” Yeonjun said, his gaze locking with Kai’s. “The idea of something lingering, unseen… It’s compelling.”

Soon, the Choi brothers moved away from them and were in deep conversation under the oak tree. Their voices were barely audible, and their expressions remained unreadable.

Taehyun, looking away from the brothers, turned back to Kai with a significant look. “Visit me, Kai. Come to my office,” he said. “I’m still setting up, but I think you will find some of my theories quite interesting.” He sealed the invitation with a smile. Straightening up, he composed himself, offering a curt but polite nod towards Beomgyu and left.

“I don’t think he’s the right choice,” Soobin said quietly to his brother under the shade. Shoulder brushing against the beta’s, Yeonjun leaned closely toward him, “You have to trust me.” His eyes held a strange glint that Soobin couldn’t quite decipher.

His brother was acting differently. This was different; this is not what they had agreed on. It was too bright out here, the harsh light reflecting off the parched earth and blinding him, making it impossible for Soobin to think clearly. Trust was hard to come by in this world. But of course, he trusted Yeonjun. He had to. Who else was there? Yeonjun was his brother, his confidant, his only constant. Yet, a nagging doubt, like a persistent splinter, burrowed deep inside him.

 

---

Kai was very proud of Taehyun. Though his office was still half in boxes, he was consulting with an actual patient, and he moved with the authority of a trained professional. In dim light, he was using a device to examine the eyes of an elderly gentleman, and Kai politely stayed on the sidelines.

Occupying himself, he began to scan the alpha’s bookcases and other belongings.

“You have not been using the eye drops regularly,” Taehyun said gently. “I must insist you do so.” He turned and saw Kai, and he smiled at him. He began to write on a pad of paper. “Take this to the druggist and ask him to prepare it exactly, then resume the dose.”

The man departed, and Taehyun turned his full attention to him. Kai beamed at him.

“What are you reading?” he asked Kai.

Kai touched the spine of the book he was holding. “Arthur Conan Doyle? Taehyun? You fancy detective stories?”

The alpha shook his head. “No, not really. But he is a doctor. An ophthalmologist, just like me.”

Kai smiled. “Just like you.”

“Let me show you something that might interest you.”

Taehyun busied himself arranging a tray of photographic plates. He gestured to the glass plate before them. The dark image was of a little baby in a crib. Kai’s blood turned to ice as he spotted a blurry shape hovering above the baby: a stretched, eerie face with black holes for eyes and a mouth caught in a scream, whether in fury or agony or both, he did not know.

“I believe that houses, places can retain impressions, just like this image. They can record an emotion or a person who is no longer alive. It’s called an ‘impregnation.’”

Can that be what has happened in our house? Kai thought anxiously. And what he had seen… within its walls? They were not products of his imagination, but things that were actually present?

“But not everyone can see them,” he said quietly.

“Right.” Taehyun went on, unaware of his discomfort.

“Or perhaps we only notice things when the time comes for us to pay attention to them. When they need us to see them,” Kai said lowly to himself.

Then he realized how intently Taehyun was staring at him. The alpha had been his confidant, the one he had entrusted with his whispered secret that his mother’s ghost had appeared to him. He had been the witness to Kai’s humiliation at Taeri’s hands when she had learned of it. But Kai was perplexed as to why his friend was bringing this up now.

“You’ve never spoken to me about these interests of yours, Taehyun,” he said, and waited for his reply.

His friend hesitated a moment and seemed to come to some kind of resolution.

“Kai, I understand your fascination with the Chois, but…in your own best interest, proceed with caution is all I ask.”

“I can take care of myself, Taehyun. Don’t presume too much.” Did he sound defensive? “You’ve been gone a long time and now…” He tried to couch his words more gently. “I’ve managed somewhat.”

Taehyun’s face was unreadable. “You’re right, Kai. I am sorry. My deepest concern has always been for you. If you are happy, then I am happy.”

And you are a true friend, Kai thought, grateful that his friend cared enough to be concerned for him. He had certainly given Kai something to think about. He had assumed these… what could he call them—visitations? Nightmares?—were the product of his creative imagination. But what if Mama really had been there?”

He thought to pursue the topic, but another patient was announced. And it was with some frustration but more relief that Kai took his leave.

 

---

Mr. Huening was an observant man; details were important in his line of work. So, after a few days, as David approached him, he knew that the man had information for him, and it did not bode well.

“It’s not often that I am the bearer of bad news,” David said by way of greeting, his voice somber. “But when I am, I insist on delivering it myself.”

He was holding a sealed envelope, thick enough to contain several documents. He extended it to Mr. Huening, his hand lingering for a moment.

“Open it alone,” he advised.

A thick wad of bills exchanged hands, a silent acknowledgment of the task completed. David then turned and swiftly left.

Chapter 5: Dinner at Huenings

Dinner at Huening Manor was a grand affair. Guests were milling about in the dining room, and servants were bustling in the kitchen. The echoing clang of silverware from the dining room drifted into the hallway where Taehyun leaned against a wall, observing the comings and goings of people. His gaze settled on a figure hurrying down the corridor.

Taehyun straightened, clearing his throat. “Beomgyu, is it?”

The beta stopped dead in his tracks. He lifted his head, but his dark hair remained stubbornly obscuring the upper half of his face. “Yes, Young Master Taehyun.” His voice was soft.

Taehyun approached him, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Is something…wrong, Young Master?” the beta said in concern.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he assured him. “It’s about Kai.”

At that, Beomgyu’s eyes flickered up through his hair.

“Look, Beomgyu,” he lowered his voice slightly. “I’m worried about him. You’re around Kai the most. And I…I need a favor.”

The other man looked surprised. “A favor, Young Master? From me?”

Nodding his head, he said, “Kai’s fascinated with the Chois. And I don’t trust them. Not one bit. I need you to look out for him if you will.”

Beomgyu seemed to process the request. “I care for Young Master Kai a great deal.” He paused, “I will do my best."

Taehyun gave a warm nod. “I know you do. That’s why I asked you. I appreciate it. I should probably get back. And… Beomgyu?” He hesitated, then couldn’t resist the impulse. “Maybe try pushing that hair back a little. I’m sure you have a perfectly fine face under there.”

At that, the beta ducked his head and said quickly, “Good evening, Young Master,” before scurrying down the hallway. Taehyun couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched him go.

 

The fragrant scents of meat and wine tantalized Yeonjun’s senses as he and Soobin prepared to enter the dining room. Kai’s home was lovely, so different from their own. Yellow light gleamed from the candles; gas lamps shone through panels of stained glass. Yeonjun could easily envision a younger Kai, small and bright-eyed, spending hours, lost in the worlds contained within the pages of his books.

Then, there he was, Kai. He stood bathed in the golden light. His smile was effortless, his presence captivating, like the sun itself gracing them with its presence.

Beside him, Soobin murmured in his ear, his voice low and almost imperceptible above the murmur of conversation, “Give him the ring.”

The silver band with a deeply red garnet nestled securely in Yeonjun’s pocket. It had been meant for Taeri. But then he had met Kai and he knew, with a certainty that Taeri had not been the proper choice. He knew Soobin was not entirely convinced that Kai was better, and his brother only accepted without protest because he loved Yeonjun unconditionally and trusted his judgment, even when he didn’t fully understand it. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do, and approached Kai.

“May I have a word?”

Kai looked from him to the throng of guests and back again, “Right now, Yeonjun?”

He had explicitly asked the omega to stop using his title. To hear his name on Kai’s lip. It felt… intimate. Yeonjun thought, very pleased.

“Yes, now. I am afraid I can’t wait,” he replied. Yeonjun sighed, genuinely twitchy, and fumbled in his pocket for the ring. The omega was waiting, attentive. He had to do this well.

“Huening Kai… Kai,” he amended, swallowing hard in his throat. “I really have no right to ask this, but…”

Then, of all time, Kai’s father suddenly appeared. Yeonjun put the ring back in his pocket.

“Sir Yeonjun, may I see you in my study? You and your brother? If you would be so kind as to fetch him?” Nabel Huening’s voice was polite but carried a distinct weight of authority. He turned to his son, “My child, please see that the guests are seated. We will join you shortly.”

The skin of Yeonjun’s face prickled with unease as Kai receded into the distance, swallowed by the throng of guests. And then with a heavy heart, he went to find Soobin, as Mr. Huening had requested.

 

“Now, Sir Yeonjun and Mr. Choi,” Nabel Huening looked at them both. So pale and dark, the two of them, practically twins. “The first time we met at my office—”

“I recall it, sir. Perfectly,” Yeonjun said.

Mr. Huening raised a brow, “I imagine it wasn’t hard for you to realize I didn’t like you.”

Yeonjun took his blunt statement bravely, “You made that plain enough sir. But I had hope that now, with time…”

“Your time, Sir Yeonjun, is up.”

“Could you speak plainly, Mr. Huening?” Soobin cut in. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”

The elder man was astonished at his audacity.

“Plain I will be Mr. Choi. Plainer than you might like to hear. I have no idea what your implications are, but in the past few days, your brother has deemed it fine enough to mix business with pleasure by repeatedly engaging socially with my son. My only son,” he added for emphasis.

Yeonjun fumbled, and Mr. Huening regained the upper hand.

“You love my son, is that it?” He restrained his anger.

And Yeonjun matched his gaze. “Yes, sir, it is.”

“You play the part well,” the elder man said honestly. “A few days ago, my son asked me why I didn’t like you. Honestly, at the time, I had no good answer. But now I do. I obtained some interesting records on you. Your aristocracy record, property records…”

He pulled out the envelope from David containing the documents and slid the contents across the table toward the brothers. As he had anticipated, the corner of one piece in particular attracted Sir. Yeonjun’s attention.

“But that document there, the Civil Registry, that’s the real find,” Mr. Huening declared, nailing the coffin lid shit. A simple glimpse of the seal was sufficient, the younger alpha turned stark white.

“I believe that’s the first honest reaction I’ve seen from you.”

There was silence. Choi Soobin was impossible to read, but Yeonjun was in misery as he ground out, “Does Kai know?”

“No,” Mr. Huening answered. But I will tell him if that’s what it takes to send you on your way.”

The older Choi’s expression broke as he leaned forward, perhaps unconsciously. He said, “I am sure you won’t believe me, but—”

“You love my son. You’re repeating yourself.” The elder man opened his book of checks and wrote on the first paper. “Now you…” He held it out to Soobin. “You seem to be the more collected one.”

The beta’s eyes widened as he saw the amount.

“It’s more than generous, I know. But if you want that check, there are two conditions.” He handed them two train tickets. “A train for New York City, leaving first thing tomorrow morning. You and your brother better be on it. Do we understand each other?”

“We do,” Soobin answered. He looked angry, and that made Mr. Huening angrier. The beta had no right to any emotion except shame. The younger Choi took the check and the civil certificate. Huening Senior was astonished at their arrogance, that they thought a foolish man from a backwater town wouldn’t think to check their credentials.

“What is the second condition?” Soobin asked.

“That concerns my son.” Mr. Huening looked hard at his brother. “Tonight, you must thoroughly break his heart.”

 

---

The dinner was served and Kai was busy ensuring the comfort of all his father’s guests. But his mind was preoccupied, aware that Yeonjun had begun to ask him a very important question, only to disappear with his father for a private discussion.

Kai’s heart was fluttering in his chest, there were legions of butterflies in his stomach. He was unable to read Yeonjun’s expression as he and Soobin sat at the dinner table but ate very little. According to his knowledge, men about to propose marriage tended to be very jittery. Could it be that Soobin also shared Yeonjun’s anxiety because he wanted his brother to be happy? Kai had never had siblings but had often wanted them. Soobin could be his brother, then. Kai was overjoyed at the prospect.

His father suddenly raised his glass. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have an unexpected announcement to make. Sir Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was looking straight at Kai and he raised his glass. Lingering on his face with those soulful eyes. He looked like a man about to announce something important.

“Thank you, Mr. Huening,” he said. “When I came to America, my heart was brimming with a sense of adventure. Here, the future actually seemed to mean something.”

Kai met his gaze. The alpha was speaking of the future….their future?

“I have found warmth and friendship among you all. " He fell silent for a moment, and Kai lived a lifetime in that pause.

Yeonjun’s expression shifted, his gaze steady as before, but now it was sad. A tiny flash of alarm darted through Kai. Something was wrong.

“But for now, farewell. May we meet again. My brother and I depart for England with tomorrow morning’s train.”

His announcement had brought farewells and cheers around the table. But not from Kai. Yeonjun was not proposing. He was leaving. Passing him exactly as he had passed by poor Taeri.

But I thought… I thought he… loved…

Devastated, Kai murmured his excuses and escaped from the dining room.

He did not know Yeonjun had followed him until he spoke his name.

“Kai”

He swallowed down his pain. He had thought…he had hoped…

“You are leaving us.” Each syllable was a struggle, but Kai betrayed nothing. His voice was steady.

“We must go back home immediately, tend to our interests,” Yeonjun said. There was another pregnant pause, “And with nothing to hold us in here.”

Could he be any crueler to Kai?

“I see.”

Kai had reached the stairs; he caught sight of his father hovering in the background.

“Your manuscript,” Yeonjun said. “I read the new chapters. I will have it delivered in the morning.”

“That’s good for you.” His mind spun back to their first encounter. There had been a connection between them, there had. The pain in his heart intensified to unbearable agony.

“Would you like to know my thoughts on the story?” he asked.

Kai nodded. The alpha then took a breath, as if the entire conversation had become nothing more than an unpleasant and uninteresting task.

“Very well. It is absurdly sentimental. The aches that you describe, the pain, the loss in the story. But you have not lived it at all. In fact you seem to only know what the other writers tell you in their work.”

Kai couldn’t have been more mortified than if the alpha had spat in his face. What was Yeonjun saying? Humiliate him in his own house?

“I thank you for your frankness,” he said tightly.

Yeonjun took a step toward him. “I am not done. You insist on describing the torments of love when you clearly know nothing about them.”

Why must he be so awful to Kai? Did he see Kai like Taeri? Spoiled and self-absorbed omega? Discard him when he is of no use. Did Kai misunderstand his gestures as serious affections?

The guests were wandering in, attracted by their quarrel and now witnesses to his humiliation. The alpha was relentless, approaching him, mocking him.

“I advise you to return to your ghosts and fancies. You know little of how human heart or the pains that come with it. You are nothing but a spoiled child playing with—”

That was as much as Kai could take. He knew nothing? At least he had a heart unlike the other man.

He slapped him hard; the alpha flinched but took it.

Kai then turned and fled.

He didn’t register the confused murmurs and Taehyun’s concerned calls. He just needed to escape, to get away from everything.

He stumbled inside his room, collapsing onto the mattress in a heap of limbs and frayed emotions. Tears streamed down his face, hot and stinging.

He had been so foolish, so naive. He’d allowed himself to believe in the small gestures, the fleeting moments of shared understanding that had hinted at something deeper. He’d built a fragile castle of hope on the shifting sands of Yeonjun’s attention, and the alpha had just kicked it all down with cruel words.

A soft knock on the door startled him. He didn’t want to see anyone, not even the concerned face of his father. He wanted to disappear, to crawl under the covers and never emerge.

“Kai?” Beomgyu’s voice, gentle and laced with concern, filtered through the door. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

Kai forced a shaky breath.

“Come in,” he croaked, his voice thick with tears.

The door creaked open, and Beomgyu slipped inside, his eyes immediately finding Kai’s crumpled form on the bed. He moved quickly, settling beside him and pulling him into a comforting embrace.

“What happened?” Beomgyu asked softly, his hand gently stroking Kai’s hair. “I heard loud voices, and then… well, I saw you run in here.”

He buried his face in Beomgyu’s shoulder, the dam finally breaking. He sobbed uncontrollably, the words tumbling out in a rush of anger, hurt, and humiliation. He told Beomgyu everything.

“He said I know nothing about love,” Kai choked out, his voice muffled against Beomgyu’s shoulder. “He said I’m just a spoiled child playing with fancies.”

Beomgyu held him tighter, “He’s wrong, Kai. You are one of the most empathetic, caring person I know.”

“But he didn’t see it that way,” Kai whispered. “He just saw a spoiled omega pretending to understand things he’s never experienced.”

“He doesn’t know you,” Beomgyu insisted. “He’s only seen a small part of you, and he’s clearly too arrogant to look any deeper. His opinion doesn’t define you or your work.”

After a while, Kai’s sobs subsided, replaced by quiet sniffles. He leaned back against Beomgyu, drawing comfort from his presence to ease the ache in his chest.

 

How had he managed to doze off, Kai had no idea. But he woke up slowly to awareness, sprawled on top of his bed, still fully dressed. He had cried himself to sleep.

Beomgyu was in his room, and he was holding a sheaf of papers that Kai recognized at once the recent chapters of his now-hated manuscript. Yeonjun had kept his promise and returned it. The sight of it brought back bad feelings that had haunted him last night.

“What is it gyu?” Kai murmured.

“This was delivered this morning. But I didn’t want to wake you up early.”

“Thanks gyu.”

“And this letter was delivered just now,” Beomgyu said.

“The letter…?”

Red wax in a coat of arms with a skull design sealed an envelope of thick parchment paper. His name was written across the front in a bold but elegant handwriting. Kai didn’t know if he dared read it, but he ripped it open anyway. The room seemed to dim as he devoured the lines.

 

Dear Kai,

 

By the time you read this, I will be gone. I can’t bear to leave without telling you the whole truth. Your father made it clear to me that, in my present economic condition, I was not in a position to provide for you. And to this I agreed. He also asked me to break your heart—to take the blame. And to this I agreed too. By this time, I have already accomplished both tasks. But know this: When I can prove to your father that all I ask of him is his consent, and nothing more, and only then, I will come back for you.

Yours,

Yeonjun

 

A wave of elation surged through him, bringing a sense of euphoria. Yeonjun had not abandoned him, and he wasn’t a heartless cruel man. But when had this been delivered? Beomgyu said it had arrived just now. The words danced in Kai’s mind, and then he practically flung himself off the bed, rushed up the stairs. He dashed out into the hall, crying, “Gyu, my coat!” The urgency in his voice echoed through the house. Beomgyu, startled, appeared with Kai’s coat in hand, his eyes wide with concern.

“What’s going on, Kai?” Beomgyu asked, helping him into the coat.

“Yeonjun! He sent a letter!” Kai blurted out, his voice trembling with excitement. “I need to get to him!”

He didn’t explain further, didn’t have time. He tore out of the house and into the bustling streets. The city throbbed around him, a cacophony of horns and shouts, but all Kai heard was the frantic beat of his own heart. He pushed through the crowds, dodging cars and pedestrians.

He finally reached the train station, his lungs burning and his legs aching. But as he scanned the departure board, a cold dread began to seep into his joy. He frantically searched for the train to New York. The departure time stared back at him – 7:00 AM.

He checked the time on the large clock in the train station and saw that it was already past midday. Yeonjun had said they would take the early morning train. Leaning against a pillar, he felt the joy he had just moments ago turn into disappointment.

Kai felt like crying. He had been so close, so hopeful. When would he be able to see the alpha again?

He pulled the letter from his pocket, his fingers trembling. He traced the return address with his thumb: “Syracuse, New York.”

The alpha must be staying there. If Yeonjun were in Syracuse, then so would he be.

He marched towards the ticket booth with his shoulders squared. He bought a one-way ticket to Syracuse. the weight of the ticket was comforting in his hand. It was a long shot, a desperate gamble, but it was his only option. He would find Yeonjun. He had to.

Chapter 6: A Funeral and a Wedding

Notes:

I've made some updates to this chapter, so if you read it before, I'd love for you to take another look! I originally had two different ideas and was in a dilemma about which version I should write from the start. But after getting a thoughtful comment on my previous upload, I realized what I should do. I decided to rewrite what I didn’t dare last time. Hope you enjoy the new ver!

Nabel Huening stood before the mirror in the opulent shower room of the exclusive gentlemen’s club. He was deep in thought about yesterday’s events. Kai had been so close to making the mistake of his life. If that viper, Choi Yeonjun, had managed to pull off his scheme, Kai wouldn’t have just been heartbroken; he wouldn’t have had a life worth living. The scandal alone would have been enough to ruin the omega.

Male omegas were a rarity, whispered about in hushed tones. And Kai was more than just a male omega; he was an heir, a successor of a wealthy and influential family. His son was a mere one percent of the population, and he supposed there would be other alphas like Choi, wolves in sheep’s clothing, who would come sniffing after his son’s money. He would do whatever it took to protect his son from such predators.

Morosely, he reached for his shaving kit, the familiar ritual offering a small comfort. His attendant arrived with clean towels and placed them silently on the heated rail. With a practiced twist of the basin’s hot water faucet, he unleashed a gush of steaming water, filling the large porcelain bowl.

“How’s the water today, Borris?” he asked with forced cheerfulness.

“Piping hot, sir. Just the way you like it,” Borris replied as he turned on one of the showers as well. The room began to steam up.

“Very well, then,” Nabel said, running a hand over his unshaven jaw. “Be kind enough to order me some crispy ham and scrambled eggs. I’ll start with coffee – black, as always.”

“Right away, sir,” Borris acknowledged with a slight bow of his head. He turned and, with barely a ripple in the humid air, exited the shower room.

Mist clouded his vision as he prepared to disrobe. Then a shadow flitted behind him, startling him, and he turned to see if Borris had returned.

There was no one there.

But there had been someone. And he had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t alone. Any member would announce himself. The newcomer’s silence was not merely curious, but rather off-putting.

Perhaps it was his imagination.

Feeling rather silly, he checked the lockers. Of course, they were empty.

Hot water was spilling over the basin; in his distraction, he had let it run too long. His shaving blade had fallen on the wet ground, and the solid soap bar tumbled after it. With a sigh of irritation, he bent to pick up the objects, pricking his finger in the process. Coppery-red blood swirled down the drain.

There it was, he saw the shadow again. Then someone grabbed him by the cuff of his robe and the back of his head. Before he could even flinch, his head was brutally slammed against the basin’s porcelain rim. There was no pain, only shock. He staggered and went down. The figure loomed over him, a dark silhouette against the steaming air. It grabbed his head and smashed it again and again against the porcelain. He heard his bones crush as his nose shattered.

Then, a name, a desperate whisper from his fading mind:

Kai.

Another blow. His forehead gave way with a wet crack. The world spiraled into crimson.

Again.

Ka-

As gouts of scarlet blood gushed out of the ruin of his skull.

Again.

K-

One last, shattering impact. Then, stillness. He did not move. The clear, boiling water of the basin bloomed scarlet, his very life staining the porcelain.

 

---

As each mile passed, Kai felt a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. Finally, after a 4-hour train ride, he arrived at Syracuse in the evening. After asking around for some time, the locals all pointed him to the same place. He hurried towards the only hotel in this small town. The bell above the door jingled a welcome as he scanned the small lobby. A few armchairs were scattered around. And finally, he approached the front desk.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I’m looking for Sir Choi Yeonjun. Is he staying here?”

The manager, a middle-aged man, studied the guest registry. “Choi Yeonjun, yes. Room 304—”

Kai didn’t wait to hear the rest. He bolted, a desperate surge of hope from this morning returned, propelling him forward. At last, he reached the door to Room 304, breathless and hopeful. But the room was empty. Not empty in the way a vacant hotel room is, but empty of any personal belongings, any sign of habitation. Two hotel staff were inside, one stripping the bed, the other dusting.

“Excuse me,” Kai gasped, trying to regain his composure. “Is this… was Sir Choi Yeonjun staying here?”

One of the staff stopped sweeping and looked at him. “He checked out not long ago, just in time to catch the train. Did you miss him?”

Kai stood still, panting. No. It couldn’t be. He found out the truth, traveled all this way, endured the gnawing uncertainty, only to find out he missed the alpha. By mere hours, perhaps minutes. The irony was a cruel twist of the knife in his chest.

He walked down the stairs of the hotel with a defeated air, his head hung low. As he stepped out of the entrance doors, he looked up at the darkened sky. Heavy clouds obscured the sky, mirroring the gloom in his heart. The world, he thought bitterly, felt too cruel to him, giving him a small dose of hope dangling just out of reach, only to snatch it away at the last possible moment.

Suddenly, a subtle shift in the air was felt—a familiar scent wafted through, faint yet unmistakable. Kai became aware of the presence of someone standing close by, just behind him, partially obscured by the open doorway of the hotel. He slowly, cautiously, turned his head.

It was Yeonjun.

An overwhelming joy surged within him. He managed to rein in the desperate urge to throw himself into Yeonjun’s arms, to bury himself in the familiar scent of his alpha. He forced himself to stand still, taking in Yeonjun’s presence, memorizing every detail.

The slightly rumpled hair, the hesitant posture, the way the street light caught the warmth in his dark eyes. He wanted to bridge the distance between them in an instant, but he knew he shouldn’t. He stood his ground, keeping his distance, waiting for Yeonjun to make the first move, his eyes locked on the alpha.

“Soobin has gone to England first,” Yeonjun began, “but I could not. Your father bribed me. To leave.”

He reached into his pocket and produced what Kai recognized as a bank check. Then he tore it in half.

“But I cannot leave you, Kai. I found myself thinking of you in the most inconvenient moments of the day. I feel as if a link, a thread, exists between your heart and mine. And should that link be broken by distance or time…well, I fear my heart would cease to beat and die. And you’d soon forget about me.”

Kai finally found the breath to speak.

“Never. I would never forget you.”

He looked in Yeonjun’s eyes and melted.

This was happening. This was real, a dream after the nightmare.

Yeonjun pulled him close and kissed him. His arms, his wild heartbeat. The softness of his lips as they brushed against his mouth, then pressed harder. Kai closed his eyes, felt like waltzing again in the ballroom, his wish come true.

He felt the alpha’s restraint, as if holding back; he was about to open his eyes to assure the older that he didn’t need to hold back anymore. He had broken Kai’s heart, and only he can mend it. Then Yeonjun relaxed against his and gathered him up. All was right. Everything felt just perfect on this beautiful day.

Arm in arm, they took their leave. A part of Kai couldn’t care where they went, or what they did next, but he needed to return home before he worried his father too much.

On the train ride back home, Kai thought a lot about what he should say to his father. He supposed Yeonjun could present himself to his father and they could begin again on better terms. Surely his father would give consent once he saw that Yeonjun is an honorable man.

A man who could not be bought, who prized Kai above the money he required to fulfill his mining plans. The alpha could have kept the check and made his way back to his homeland, where any number of omegas were no doubt waiting in line for him. What father would not wish such a man on his only son?

They hold hands the whole train ride. As they arrived at the Buffalo train station, Kai saw his father’s lawyer, Mr. Ferguson, and Beomgyu, who stood with him, pointing at Kai. As if they were desperately waiting for his return. He and Yeonjun slowed their pace. Kai’s heart thudded so hard he felt his pulse in the sole of his feet. He recognized the agonized looks on their faces, wrenched, hollow eyes, speaking of tragedy. Kai had seen that same expression on his father’s face when he had come to tell younger Kai of his mother’s death.

 

The Buffalo City Morgue was more vile than a stable, anyone could see that. His father, who loved grandeur and elegance could not possibly have been taken to such a filthy, disgusting place. Fear was drowning Kai in denial. In the train station, Beomgyu had burst into tears and embraced Kai as soon as he had come within arm’s length.

But this is my greatest happiness day. It cannot be.

There was a clatter of footsteps, someone catching up to them. It was Taehyun, quite out of breath, and his appearance gave weight to the reality Kai was fighting so hard against. He couldn’t sense his feet on the ground. He began to feel as if he were dissolving.

“I’m so sorry,” Taehyun said. “I came as soon as I heard.”

No, don’t say that, he silently begged him. Yeonjun’s hand then squeezed his once more, offering a semblance of courage.

Kai started holding his breath as they arrived at the door of the morgue.

Taehyun faltered as an official opened the door. Kai turned to follow the man.

“Wait,” Taehyun ordered. “Don’t look.”

Kai’s throat was so tight that it took a great effort to speak. “I am told that I have to.”

Taehyun appealed to the official. “No. Please. I’ll give you an identification. Don’t make him look. I was his physician.” He turned to the family lawyer for support. “Ferguson, you know that.”

That wasn’t true; Taehyun specialized in examining eyes. Perhaps he was trying to protect Kai.

“Mr. Ferguson set his jaw and gave his head a little shake. “And I’m his lawyer, Dr. Kang. I am sorry. It’s not just a legal formality. It’s obligatory, I’m afraid.”

I’m afraid. The words echoed in his mind. Kai was so very, very afraid.

Yeonjun was there, along with Taehyun and Beomgyu, and they loved him.

But in his fear, he was all alone.

Kai and the men walked across a tile floor that was slippery and dirty. The room stank of blood. There were flies. Yeonjun and Beomgyu stood beside him, and he felt the comforting scent his alpha was releasing through the chilling block of terror encasing him. His father could not possibly lie beneath that stained white sheet.

Then the official lifted the drape.

And everything stayed frozen, everything: heart, thought, breath. Kai only stared as Yeonjun’s hand tightened, tightened…

He did not look like his father.

He did not look human.

His face was destroyed. The bones were crushed. Blood pooled and coagulated. The damage to the features is beyond his ability to comprehend.

If Kai gave a sign that it was his father, he was unaware. But the tension in the room thickened; he felt a heavy weight pulling him downward as if he would sink through the floor. The men grew even more somber as they shifted and someone cleared his throat, as if signaling that it was time to move to the next step.

“How did it happen?” Taehyun asked hoarsely.

“An accident,” Mr. Ferguson said. “The floor was wet.”

Taehyun’s brow furrowed as he scrutinized the body… his father.

“May I, sir?” Taehyun said to the official. “Help me turn him.”

Kai watched numbly as Taehyun inspected the poor, ruined head. The head that could not be his father’s. Then, with the aid of the other man, he began to turn the deceased on his side, and he saw shaving cream on his cheek.

The sheet began to fall away, revealing—

This is my father. It is, it is!

“Stop it, stop!” Kai cried, rushing forward. “Don’t handle him like that, please don’t.”

Taehyun drew back. “Forgive me, I was trying to—”

Yeonjun pulled him into a tight embrace, though he hardly steadied himself. The alpha’s face was stark white; he was as horrified as Kai was. Kai didn’t hear the men’s further condolences, didn’t see the sorrowful face of Beomgyu or anyone around him.

“This is my father,” he said firmly. “He—he is turning sixty next week, and he is afraid of looking his age, you see? That’s why he… dresses so well, why he loves taking long walks with me.” Kai cradled and kissed his hand. “It feels cold. Why is it so cold?”

They looked at him with such pity. And then the horrible reality finally sank in: his father was truly dead. Just like that. Gone.

 

---

The cemetery, again. Eleven years vanished like ghosts as Taehyun regarded his dearest friend lost in grief. It seemed only yesterday they had gathered to bury Kai’s mother, who had died horribly. And now his father, too. He remembered the way Kai had looked to him for comfort when they were both twelve. He had loved the omega all his life.

But today Kai wasn’t even looking at him. He was too much of a boy back then to think of marrying him, he was also here today to bury his hopes as a man. Upon Kai’s finger glittered the large red ring, clearly the Choi heirloom. Taehyun knew what it signified: Kai was engaged to be married to Choi Yeonjun.

Choi’s pale face seemed to blend into the sleeting rain while he sheltered Kai beneath an umbrella. In tribute to the man who would have become his father-in-law, the man wore deep mourning clothes, and Kai was likewise swathed in black from head to toe.

Yeonjun’s arm was around Kai as the omega leaned against his chest, dazed and unfocused. It was all too soon, under circumstances too horrible to comprehend. Perhaps Taehyun was looking through the lens of jealousy, but when he regarded the way Choi held Kai, it seemed that the man was determined to keep him in his grasp rather than ease the omega’s suffering. Kai looked trapped, not protected.

Then Choi noticed his gaze and held it steadily. It was an unspoken duel, Kai saw none of it. Taehyun knew that he had already lost, and so he tipped his hat, as one would do to salute a grieving relative of the deceased.

Restricted by an umbrella and fiancé, Choi was unable to return the gesture, so he inclined his head. The alpha embodied gravity and sorrow, and Taehyun wondered if he was being unfair because of his jealousy. Choi Yeonjun’s feelings for Kai could be pure. It was possible to fall in love quickly and deeply. Just like Kai.

 

---

TWO WEEKS LATER

The organ music swelled, a mournful interpretation of a love song that felt more like a lament. Kai was dressed and veiled in white, like a ghost. He was holding a bouquet of red roses as Mr. Ferguson walked him down the aisle. He looked dazed.

Like everyone present, Taehyun included, the groom wore a mourning band. It was macabre that they were marrying now. Kai’s father had not approved and it felt wrong. His friend was making a terrible mistake. But he wished Kai well, he truly did.

Taehyun managed a small smile for Kai when their eyes met. It felt brittle, forced, and he wondered if Kai saw through it. He prayed that he didn’t. He wanted Kai to know that despite his disapproval, despite the ache in his own heart, he genuinely wanted him to find happiness.

The ceremony continued with a blur of vows, readings, and well-wishes that felt hollow and strained. When the kiss ended, the polite applause rippled through the room, quickly dying away into a silence.

Taehyun turned his face. Taeri was giving him a sad, tight smile. She was giving him a signal that he should accept the kiss sealed the two as married, and the hopes of the Kang siblings were dashed. His sister would find love again, of course, and he tried to convey the sentiment by taking her hand and squeezing it.

Let Kai be happy, and I will be happy, he thought. It was all that I wanted for him.

Notes:

We’re about one-third of the story now! How are you enjoying it so far? I'd love to hear your thoughts! 🫶🏻

Chapter 7: Harrowing Heights

Summary:

Kai arrived at Harrowing Heights!

CUMBERLAND, ENGLAND

The hills appeared desolate during their journey, and the sky was thick with fog. Wrapped in blankets and his coat, Kai dozed in the carriage, lost in a hazy dream. He was the last of the Huenings, but he no longer bears the name. He’s now one of the Chois.

The journey from America to England felt endless, like time stretched across the vast ocean. As newlyweds, they spent a week in London for their honeymoon, and now they are on their way to Cumberland, located in northern England. Yeonjun’s home, now his too. The weather was brutal at this time of the year. Through the chill, he felt the warmth of his husband.

“Kai, my love, wake up. We are here.”

When he opened his eyes, he saw Yeonjun’s face, sharp and striking like the facets of his garnet ring. The horse brought the carriage closer to the gate of the Choi ancestral home. Long columns supported an iron arch with the image of a chained skull in his view. Kai remembered the crest had been imprinted in the red wax seal on the back of Yeonjun’s desperate love letter. Below the iron crest were the words Harrowing Heights.

The bleak house stood at the end of a red clay path, surrounded by dead brown grass and skeletal trees, and backed by a dark gray sky. Kai had been told there were no servants; they could no longer afford house staff. Just the Choi brothers and the workers who were fixing the mining machine. Upon the death of his father, the family fortune passed to him. He would restore Harrowing Heights to its former glory. The worry lines on his beloved alpha’s face would disappear. They would invite family and friends, and the manor would become prosperous again.

The manor had been built over the centuries, in many styles of brick and stone; there were walkways, turrets, and towers, some of which had deteriorated so badly that they had fallen. Yeonjun had prepared him, but the sight of the once-magnificent estate now fallen into such terrible ruin stunned and saddened Kai.

There was a desperate dignity about his alpha as he gazed at Kai, taking it all in. Like his beautiful but outdated clothing, his home spoke of a life begun in refinement and elegance, but without the means to maintain it. It spoke of loss. Kai remembered what the alpha told the men in the meeting room at Buffalo: that he possessed an unwavering will. It seemed to him now that Harrowing Heights stood above ground only through the sheer force of that will.

The carriage rolled to a stop. Yeonjun helped him out of the carriage. Together, they walked toward the front steps of the house he was now the owner of. After the horseman fetched their luggage and dropped them off, Yeonjun picked him up and carried him over the threshold of their home. They both burst into happy giggles. Married. And home at last from their honeymoon—if you could properly call it a honeymoon. They had not shared the marriage bed yet. Kai was grateful that Yeonjun had respected his mourning, but he was ready to be his omega in all ways.

Yeonjun set him down inside, and Kai had his first glimpse of the interior of the house. There was a huge entrance hall, paneled in dark wood, with three stories of balconies above it. There were portraits of centuries of Choi ancestors in gilded frames on the wall. There was also a moderately sized birdcage elevator that could able to hold perhaps three people.

“Soobin!” Yeonjun called, his voice practically echoing in the house. “Soobin! Soobin!”

Kai looked around and said, “How can you maintain this house, just you and Soobin?”

“We try as best as we can, but with the rain, and the mines right below…it’s almost impossible to stop the dampness.”

Yeonjun brushed Kai’s lips with a kiss, “Wait for me,” and disappeared into the gloomy house to find his brother.

With Yeonjun off, Kai was alone in the large, cold room. Slightly uneasy, he drew his coat more closely around himself. The wind slammed the front door shut with a boom. He jumped. With the door closed, the great hall descended deeper into darkness.

Kai was very tired; this was the final destination of the long, cold trip. This was his home now. So he took off his hat and gloves, settling in, then spotted a large mirror, where he checked his hair. He wanted to look presentable for Soobin, whom he barely knew. The beta had already left for England earlier and had missed their wedding.

While checking himself in the mirror, Kai saw a flash of shadow on the far side of the room. He thought the dark shadowy figure must be Soobin. He finally came out. Kai felt a little flutter of nerves. Just over a month ago, they were strangers, and now they are family.

He raised a hand, but the figure stayed well away from him, so cloaked in the shadow that Kai couldn’t really make out his appearance. He seemed to be moving strangely.

“Soobin?” he said as a way of greeting. The man moved away, and Kai was perplexed. Should he follow after him? Was there some reason Soobin was not talking to him?

“Excuse me,” Kai called, walking toward the figure. As he got closer, he could feel something was off. It was not Soobin; he could tell that much. For one thing, the height was wrong, and the back of the stranger showed it was a woman.

Ignoring Kai, the stranger entered the elevator cage. The mechanism hummed to life, and the elevator ascended as Kai hurried over to it and peered upward. It was too late. All Kai could see was the bottom of the cab.

Then Yeonjun walked back in, and Kai pointed his finger at the elevator.

“A person, Yeonjun, there was a person in the elevator.”

The alpha raised a brow. “You mean Soobin?”

“No, no, it wasn’t Soobin,” he insisted.

“That device seems to have a mind of its own,” Yeonjun said, almost fondly. “The wiring gets affected by the dampness in the house. It connects to all floors and the clay mine under the house, you see. Promise me you’ll be very careful when using it, and never, ever go below this floor level. The mines are very unstable.”

Kai wanted to make it clear that there had been a woman in the elevator. It hadn’t just decided to go up.

As he opened his mouth to speak, the entrance door opened and Soobin walked in, wrapped in gloves and a heavy woolen cape. He seemed to be outside the whole time Yeonjun was calling for him.

“Soobin,” Yeonjun broke in happily. As he went to embrace his brother, Soobin threw off his cape, preventing the alpha. Then he regarded Kai with a cool eye.

“I see you made it, Kai,” he said, which was a rather strange thing to say. “How was London?” he continued.

“It was a blur,” Kai replied, putting aside his concerns about the woman. Perhaps Soobin had hired someone from the village to prepare the house for their coming. And truly, London had been a blur. Despite his father’s wealth, Kai had not traveled much. Yeonjun seemed so happy to reveal his country to him.

The alpha happily said, “We went to a concert. It was so grand and wonderful!”

Indeed, they had listened to a Chopin program, and Yeonjun had remarked that Soobin would have loved it. He had spoken often of his brother during their excursions, and Kai had been touched by the alpha’s devotion to his brother. Kai occasionally caught himself talking about his father and would cut himself short because he did not want Yeonjun to think he wasn’t happy. But Yeonjun had encouraged him to talk about his father, reminding him that he was still grieving.

Soobin bristled a little. “I see. Well, I went to the post office. Your machine parts are here. Two heavy crates. You’ll need the workers to fetch them.” He spoke stiffly, clearly a bit jealous of their fine time. But one went on a honeymoon with one’s spouse, not one’s brother. Surely Soobin understood that. Perhaps they could take a trip together, the two brothers-in-law, while Yeonjun worked on his machine. It would be difficult to be parted from his alpha for even a few days, but…

Soobin cocked his head as Kai tried to bury himself in his cloak.

“Yeonjun, your omega is frozen.” And he unhooked the key ring from his waist and turned to go. He seemed harried and a bit tired.

At that, his alpha embraced him. “I’ll take you upstairs, my love. Start a fire right away, and you can prepare a hot bath.”

Kai felt guilty that Soobin was housekeeping while he bathed. But he truly was frozen, and so exhausted that he would be useless to anyone. He was not used to doing chores given to servants, but he was going to learn. Since his mother’s absence, he has learned to manage the household. As the omega of the house, he regularly hosts guests and dinner gatherings.

“Soobin, whenever it’s convenient, may I have a copy of the house keys please?”

“You don’t need one,” Soobin said quickly. Then, in a more measured tone, he added, “For now. There are parts of the house that are unsafe. It will take a few days for you to familiarize yourself. Then, if you still feel that you need them, I’ll have copies made.”

Kai let himself be satisfied with that answer. The beta had carried the burden of maintaining this enormous house while Yeonjun was busy with his inventions. He made a promise in his head that he would lift the weight from Soobin’s shoulders or at least take on his fair share. Then he followed Yeonjun toward the lift, anticipating a nice hot bath.

The omega stood in the bathroom, wearing only undergarments as he turned on the taps. Steam spilled from the faucet, and the first few sputters of water were muddy. The heaters on both sides of the tub began to vibrate like a rattle, then growing louder. As the water ran clear and hot, he climbed into the bathtub.

 

Below downstairs, in the small kitchen, the two brothers were muttering lowly.

“What is he playing at?” Soobin asked, his brows frowning. “Why is he asking for the copies of the keys?”

“I have no idea,” his brother replied, igniting the flame in the copper heater. Making sure the omega’s bath was hot, and the water for his tea as well.

Soobin stomped to the stove and readied a kettle of boiling water. Then he selected a red tin of tea and poured the water through the leaves into the pot. He moved closer to his brother, perhaps as close as a lover would stand, and the alpha did not move aside. Soobin prepared a tea tray for him to take upstairs to Kai. Yeonjun looked distracted, perhaps…guilty.

“Once he signs the final paper, he will be gone,” Soobin said. “In the meantime, don’t make another mistake.”

Looking troubled, yet saying nothing, Yeonjun put away the red tea tin and picked up the tray.

 

Kai was beginning to warm up as he soaked in the tub. He had added a few handfuls of the fine bath salts and essential oil he had packed. The scent of the roses brought vague memories of their wedding. He had moved through the ceremony like a sleepwalker, and he wished he remembered more of it. He had still been in shock.

The wind blew past the windows, howling, and the panes rattled in the round window above him. He sank a little deeper into the bath.

Then he thought he heard a noise; a whisper, or someone…crying? He tried to hear over the sudden fast beats of his heart. Perhaps, he needed to rein in his active imagination. Kai leaned back and allowed the steam to relax him. Yet he found himself replaying the memory with the elevator. It was an enormous house, and Soobin had not been there when they’d arrived. Someone could have slipped into the house.

Yeonjun said there were no other homes for miles around, and the village was far away, but perhaps a servant, or some other person…

There was a rustling in the bedroom. Kai jerked, listening.

“Yeonjun?” he called. His alpha had promised to bring him some tea.

There was no reply.

He heard the rustling again. But still no Yeonjun. Perhaps he hadn’t heard his call. Dear Lord. Could it be Soobin? The idea of a tall beta unpacking his things while Kai was bathing in here embarrassed him. He wondered what he should do; he had not brought his nightwear into the bathroom.

Kai waited, one ear pricked for the sounds in the bedroom. His anxiety began to rise. He half-rose from the water, absolutely certain that someone was in the bedroom. Someone who by now should have made their presence known.

This is off, he thought. This is strange.

He thought again of the woman in the elevator, and goosebumps broke out all over his body, even the parts submerged in the steaming water.

As Kai entered the room, he saw no one there until his alpha entered the room with a tray.

“Soobin made you tea,” he told Kai with a smile. Then he stared fondly at Kai as he held his towel around his body. “Are you all right? You look rather pale.”

Kai did not tell him. He did not confide. He loved Yeonjun, but after all, he didn’t know the alpha all that well. He still has a lot to discover.

 

Kai was relieved and happy to be nestled in bed with Yeonjun, who was fussing over him, making him warm with layers of blankets, pouring and bringing him tea in a lovely cup. He took a sip and found it quite bitter. Yeonjun raised a brow at his grimace, and Kai was embarrassed to disappoint his alpha.

“You don’t like it?” the older asked.

“What is it?” He had never had anything like it, even in London.

“Firethorn berries. Very good for you,” Yeonjun said.

“It’s a little bitter,” he confessed, and the alpha’s face took on the haunted, sad expression that seemed to appear at the strangest times. Kai did not know what caused his melancholy, but he had promised himself he would wipe it from his alpha’s face once and forever. He would make his alpha so blissfully happy that he would forget whatever it was that troubled him.

“I’m afraid nothing gentle ever grows in this land Kai,” the older said. “You need a measure of bitterness to survive.”

It was so peculiar, the words he spoke contrasted with the way he spoke them. It sometimes frightened him a bit and reminded Kai of what Soobin had said back in Buffalo when he had collected butterflies to feed his cocoon. That all they had here were insects that thrived in cold and darkness. So Cumberland produced black moths, bitter berries, and blood-red clay? What was this place he had come to?

As he sipped the very bitter tea, Yeonjun placed a large wooden box in front of him with a smile. He looked from it to the alpha, pleased to see that his smile had returned.

“What is it?”

His alpha grinned. “Ah! This is a surprise. I wracked my brains for a suitable wedding present.”

Kai was touched by his thoughtfulness. They had married quickly and the alpha had been lacking in funds. The older had purchased beautiful mourning attire for his father’s funeral, insisting that he could not embarrass himself by accepting Kai purchasing it for him. Yet he had somehow also managed to get Kai a wedding gift.

On the box was a plaque engraved with the initials K.C. How had he ordered that quickly with Kai’s initials as well? He touched the engraved words, pleasingly. Then he opened the box and caught his breath at what he saw. Inside the box sat a brand-new typewriter. The memory of their first meeting came rushing back and emotions rolled over him in waves. He embraced Yeonjun, and the alpha held his back to look at Kai, and there was true joy on his face, mixed with…regret? Perhaps the older was remembering their first encounter when he quarreled with his father. His poor father, in the ground now, with his mother.

He held back a sob, then wept gently in the alpha’s arms over how good Yeonjun was to him. He was safe, protected. His alpha closed his eyes and Kai fell on the bed with him. Now, it would happen. He was a little afraid, but passion and the tenderest love for this man began to overtake him.

The alpha’s kiss was tentative. He was still reserved. Kai wanted to tell him that he desired him, but perhaps this was not the time. Their moment had not arrived yet.

“It’s been an exhausting journey,” Yeonjun murmured. “You better get some rest, Kai.”

He rose from the bed, easing Kai firmly away. Perhaps the older believed that this was best for Kai, and the omega was too shy to say otherwise. He really didn’t know too much about such concerns. He hadn’t had a mother with whom to discuss marital matters, and the things the other omegas said didn’t make sense to him.

Here he was, married for a month and all he knew was that when Yeonjun drew near, when the alpha touched him, he grew warm and eager, and Kai wanted to find out everything.

“I’ll have a bath now,” the older told him.

“Finish your tea, and if you fall asleep, darling, I won’t wake you up.”

But I want you to wake me up, Kai almost said. I want… you.

Yet when the alpha took one more look at him, his eyelids had already begun to droop.

 

A sliver of light spilled from the keyhole, beckoning Soobin closer. He pressed his eye to the cold wood, the scene within the room unfolding like a forbidden play. Yeonjun stood stiffly, his back to the door. Soobin’s breath hitched as his brother turned slightly, just enough for him to witness the soft press of Yeonjun’s lips against Kai’s.

A palpable tension filled the confined space, vibrating even through the thin barrier of the door. His eyes flickered with something unreadable. Then a strange smile tugged at his lips as he watched his brother refuse to perform his husband duties. With a quiet satisfaction, he straightened his back and moved silently away from the door.

Notes:

hope you guys enjoy the new chapter! 🫶🏼

Chapter 8: First Night

Summary:

On his first night at the Manor, Kai found out about something.

Notes:

Enjoy more taegyu in this chapter! Also I put gothic horror as a tag for a reason 👀

The knot in Taehyun’s chest twisted tighter with each thud as workers loaded another crate onto the cart outside Huening Manor. Books, engineering instruments, even Kai’s beloved childhood books were being put up for auction. It was as if the omega had wished to blot out his entire existence here in Buffalo. To be fair, much of Kai’s life was tragic, with the terrible death of both his parents.

Mr. Ferguson, the Huening family lawyer, regarded him with solemn interest. It was natural that the man had been put in charge of shutting down the house. He had been the executor of Nabel Huening’s will as well.

Kai was the sole heir, now quite a wealthy omega. Thanks to his long intimate history with the family, Taehyun offered to help go through all the Huenings’ possessions.

“I spent a good part of my childhood in this house,” he said, turning to the older man. “Our families were so close back then.”

Ferguson sighed. Just as heavy-hearted. “It’s a pity to close down all this. So quickly. So soon.”

Taehyun tilted his head and replied, “Too soon, don’t you think?”

I should have tried harder to get Kai to listen to me, he chided himself. I did not want to pressure him. Choi had turned his friend’s head… and captured his heart. In grief, Kai had been so vulnerable. At the cemetery, he had trembled beneath Choi’s arm—more like a dying butterfly pinned to a board than an orphaned omega shielded by his beloved.

Mr. Ferguson’s voice droned on, but Taehyun’s focus was locked on the brown-headed boy struggling with a heavy crate.

“Say, Sir,” he said, interrupting Mr. Ferguson’s words, “all the servants will be assigned to new places, I presume including him.” He subtly cocked his head towards Beomgyu.

“Kai asked me a favor to place him somewhere good. He seemed to have quite a fondness for him.”

“Actually,” he began, “I’d be grateful if you could arrange his employment with me. He seems diligent.”

Mr. Ferguson stroked his chin, considering his request. “That’s more than welcome, Taehyun. He is a hard worker, quiet and earnest. I’m sure Kai would be pleased if you were to take him.”

Taehyun glanced back at the beta, who was now wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “My current valet has been with me since I was a boy. He’s more family than staff. But he’s earned his rest.”

The older man nodded slowly. “Very well. I’ll arrange the transfer paperwork.”

As Mr. Ferguson walked towards the other workers, Taehyun approached Beomgyu. He watched as the brunette unsteadily lifted another box, the wooden crate straining under its weight.

The beta straightened up, blinking in surprise as Taehyun drew near, his eyes widening just a fraction. He seemed even smaller up close despite the physical labor he was undertaking.

Taehyun cleared his throat, and the action felt strangely formal.

“Young master,” Beomgyu said, lowering his head out of habit.

“Mr. Ferguson tells me you’ve been working hard today,” he kept his voice neutral.

“Just doing my job, sir.” The brunette’s voice was laced with a quiet humility that discomfited him. Taehyun wanted to ask why he hadn’t followed Kai to England. He almost blurted it out, but the words caught in his throat. It felt too intrusive.

He settled for, “I’ve been looking for a new valet. Mr. Ferguson suggested you might be a suitable replacement.” He paused, studying the other’s face. “Are you interested?”

Beomgyu hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering deep in thought.

He chuckled softly and added, “Of course, there will be a significant increase in salary.”

“Thank you, Young Master. I accept the job.”

The acceptance was delivered with the same quietness that had marked the entire conversation. Taehyun studied him for a moment, noticing the weariness in his shoulders.

“Were you not… offered a position in England? To go with Kai?”

Beomgyu’s downcast eyes flickered up at that.

“Young Master Kai was very kind. He… he suggested I come. But I declined.”

“Declined?” Taehyun’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Why would Beomgyu choose to stay behind?

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he said, “Why? Kai clearly values your companionship.”

The brunette shuffled his feet, scuffing the toe of his boot against the cobblestones. “England is a long way from home, Young Master. I have… responsibilities here. My family needs me.”

At that, Taehyun felt a pang of guilt. He had been so wrapped up in his concern for Kai and his distrust of the Chois that he hadn’t considered Beomgyu’s life.

“I see,” he said, his voice softening. “That is a very understandable decision.”

He turned to leave, but paused after a few steps. Looking back over his shoulder, “Don’t hesitate to rest if you need to. Mr. Ferguson will take care of your employment with me.”

The words conveyed a sense of authority and kindness. Beomgyu watched as the alpha disappeared into the busy manor.

 

---

The grandfather clock in the distant hall tolled, a deep, resonant dong that vibrated through the floorboards of the manor. Kai stirred half-awake between the lingering tendrils of a dream and the silence of the room. He was nestled in what felt like shabby but elegant fine sheets and bedclothes.

Another faint sound broke through the quiet. It was soft and almost imperceptible at first—a soft, stifled sob. His eyes, still heavy with sleep, fluttered open, instantly alert. Someone was softly crying.

He turned his head on the lumpy pillow, his gaze sweeping across Yeonjun’s side of the bed. It was empty. The sheets were still rumpled from where Yeonjun had been, but he was gone.

“Yeonjun?” he called out, his voice hoarse with sleep and a sudden wave of anxiety. Was it him? Could it be Yeonjun crying? He remembered the quiet melancholy that had clung to the alpha since their arrival in this decaying house. Moments of deep sighs, faraway stares, and an uncharacteristic quietness.

Then, just beyond their bedroom door, he heard a soft shuffle, like bare feet on a wooden floor, followed by the soft groaning of the door hinge.

The heavy oak door to their room swung inward in a slow movement. Kai froze, his heart thudding against his ribs. He pushed himself up, propping himself on an elbow.

There was no one there. The door was merely hung ajar. This place is so old the door must not be working properly, he reasoned, forcing logic onto the unsettling scene.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rose, the cool air biting at his bare skin, and walked to the door, pulling it firmly shut with a soft click.

But as his hand left the cold brass knob, it began to open again. A slow, agonizingly drawn-out creeeeeeak tore through the silence, making the hairs on his arms stand on end.

A sharp chill rippled up his spine as he took a step back, his breath catching in his throat. This wasn’t the house settling. This was… something else. With a rush of mixed fear and stubborn determination, he clenched his jaw, grabbed the three-branched candelabra from the bedside table, and stepped out into the darkness of the hall.

The ancient floorboards beneath his bare feet were shockingly cold, like walking on exposed stone in a tomb. The flickering candlelight from the candelabra cast dancing shadows that illuminated a gallery of grim faces. Portraits, their eyes seemingly following him, stared down from the dim walls. Their painted smiles and severe frowns seemed to twist and distort in the wavering light.

Then, from the deeper shadows, a cloud of moths burst forward, drawn to the candle flame. They fluttered, dipped, and dove around the candelabra. Kai flinched, but forced himself to move forward.

The moths’ erratic movements heightened the surreal horror of the scene. With his golden hair catching the light and the hem of his white nightgown sweeping the floor, he looked like a ghost himself.

Bam!

A door slammed shut.

He jumped, a cry dying in his throat as his fingers tightened around the candelabra. Kai stood still, his entire being focused on listening. His wide, terrified eyes scanned the darkness, attempting to locate the source.

A foolish part of him wanted to believe it was Yeonjun. It must have been him, finally returned, perhaps shutting a door against the night’s chill. But fear kept him silent. He didn’t call out his name. This house felt wrong. To call out would be to announce his presence, not just to his alpha, but to whatever else lurked here. Kai didn’t want to call attention to himself.

With a deep shuddering breath, he resumed his search. Moonlight spilled as he opened one door in the hallway. His candlelight flickered over the threshold, revealing a room frozen in time. Furniture, draped in white sheets, crowding the space. A thick layer of grey, dusty ash was heaped in the fireplace. He shut the door and tried the next.

This room was completely bare, stripped of all personality. The emptiness was somehow more unsettling than the shrouded furniture. The floor was littered with brittle, dead leaves that had rushed in through a broken window pane. He backed out quickly, pulling the door closed.

As his hand closed around the knob of the door, he heard the sobbing again. Kai’s back straightened. He turned back into the hall, facing the way he had come.

The thing watched as Kai watched.

From the floor, pulling itself out, a grotesque figure emerged painfully, struggling through the floor. Bright red bones stretched in unnatural shapes, weirdly, wrongly jointed, the hand slapped down on the floor as if for leverage. Every part of it was red, the second arm raising upward, digging itself out. And as the omega stared, paralyzed in horror, it began to crawl toward him. Faceless, scuttling, coming to him, at him.

Kai ran. It wasn’t a conscious decision so much as a primal command from the deepest part of his brain, the part that only knew fear and flight. The rooms were a blur of fading grandeur and thick dust. He didn’t dare look back, but the idea of it was enough. The idea of red. He bolted into the elevator as the last refuge.

With shaking hands, he pushed the lever. The clicking of the mechanism was loud in the sudden silence. And then… nothing. The elevator did not move.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.”

His denial transformed into a raw panic. “Down, damn it, down!” he screamed, his voice cracking. He slammed his fist against the control panel, the metal vibrating uselessly under his blow.

A desperate, animal sound tore from his throat. The elevator remained where it was, and in its stillness, Kai felt a terrible feeling, as if the house itself was holding him here, an offering. He was trapped now.

The crimson horror slowly dragged itself into view, framed by the elegant archway. It wasn’t a man or a beast. It was a fluid mass of glistening tissue and what looked like splintered bone. One hand by one, crawling slowly. It was nearly there.

And then the cage jerked with a groan of metal. It swayed violently, throwing Kai against the iron bars, and started a slow, grinding descent.

The elevator went down past the third story to the second, then the first story. The air grew cold and damp, and smelled like wet earth. It went down into darkness past the lit basement level, and then into unlit, cavernous walls. There was a gentle, final bump as the elevator stopped on the ground.

The sudden silence was deafening. Kai fought for breath, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He pressed his back against the cold metal, gulping down air that felt too thick, too heavy.

Would that thing come down here? Could it operate the lift? What in God’s name had it been? The image was burned onto the back of his eyelids: a crimson nightmare. What had he seen? And more importantly, where in the hell was he now?

The sound of dripping water echoed in the darkness as Kai forced himself to act. He realized he had lost the candelabra at some point while running. He fumbled blindly and groped through the iron bars of the cage. His fingers brushed against something cold. It was a small metal switch. He gripped it and twisted.

A weak, sickly yellow glow emanated from the bulbs hanging from wires overhead. The light was barely enough to pierce the gloom. Gazing fearfully up, he climbed down from the lift onto the earthen floor.

Before him, a single row of mine car rail tracks climbed upward into a tunnel. The channel itself was puddled with thick scarlet clay, the color unsettlingly similar to dried blood. The air here was heavy, damp, and surprisingly cool. Six enormous tubs were on the floor, three on each side of a channel.

Beyond it lay a jumble of luggage and a mountain of women’s shoes and clothes, boxes of papers, and a sturdy trunk. Kai gave a large amount of clothing a cursory inspection, his gaze skimming over the faded fabrics and scuffed leather. But his attention was drawn to the steamer trunk.

As he drew closer, he knelt, his eyes fixed on the brass plate set into the lock. The name etched into the metal was clear: Katherine. And beneath it, simple, elegant initials: K.C.

The same as his initials.

He tried the lock. It required a key, which of course he did not have.

Kai had almost reached his capacity to take in any more information. He kept looking up at the ceiling and then at the elevator.

He was cold, terrified, and utterly, hopelessly lost.

Tap, tap, tap.

He jerked at the sound. The sound rippled through the cave’s deep quiet. The thing–whatever it was–had found him. It had followed him down here!

Tap, tap, tap.

The rhythmic tapping resumed, louder now, echoing off the damp walls. It was in the mining cave. Shaking, his gaze darted through the gloom, frantically trying to pinpoint the source.

And then he froze. He knew exactly where the tapping originated.

It was coming from inside one of the heavy, sealed metal mining tubs.

Something was in there. Something was trying to claw its way out.

With a choked cry, he spun on his heel, stumbling, and scrambled back the way he’d come.

 

---

Beomgyu stood before the imposing gate of Kang Manor, a small bag clutched in his hand. It held all his possessions, the total of his time as a servant for the Huening family. He’d always admired young master Taehyun from afar, appreciating his politeness towards a servant like him. It wasn’t easy to find a considerate employer in their world, let alone one who acknowledged his existence with kindness.

He peered through the iron bars, but saw no sign of anyone. Mr. Ferguson had assured him of the position, which was secured through the request of young master Taehyun himself, but the sheer scale of Kang Manor was intimidating. He hesitated, unsure of who to approach or even how to announce his arrival.

A car accelerated from the other side of the road. It came to a stop beside Beomgyu. A window rolled down, followed by a voice and the face of a familiar person.

“Beomgyu…Is that you?”

He blinked stupidly… then, feeling relieved, decided to bow in greeting.

“Young master Taehyun.”

“Why are you standing here?” the other man asked.

Beomgyu hesitated, not sure how to respond. Looking at his expression, the alpha seemed to understand. He honked the car and a male servant ran out of the manor, opening the gate for him. The car entered the parted entrance and he followed after it across the pavement lined with beautiful lawns.

Taehyun got out of the motorcar and said, “Father is not at home. He is out to work at the moment. Only my mother is present.” and he added, “Do me a favor and don’t tell her you used to work at the Huenings.”

Beomgyu nodded, recalling the information he learned about Mrs. Kang from others.

“Yes, sir,” he agreed compliantly.

Taehyun turned to the man who opened the gate door, “Please have someone prepare the room in the little house. Clean and tidy it up so he can reside there starting tonight.”

“Right away sir,” the man replied.

After that, Beomgyu was introduced to an elder man named Finlay, who seemed to be a family butler who took charge of things in the manor in general, from taking orders from the family to distributing tasks to other servants. Beomgyu was then left with him.

They walked for a few minutes, past meticulously manicured gardens and the stable, until they reached the little house. The little house wasn’t little but a two-story guest house. Even in its simplicity, it radiated a certain charm.

He wondered why he would be in the little house instead of a servant house with other servants as it should be. He asked Finlay and the elder man said young master Taehyun lives here to study peacefully and Beomgyu was assigned here to ensure convenience for him.

Later, he had dinner in the servants’ kitchen as the other servants took turns having their meals. He listened to them chatting until he lost track of time. Before he knew it, it was late in the night. He walked back to his room in the little house. He shuffled to the bed and plumped the pillow, then plopped down onto the mattress.

“I wondered how Kai was settling into his new home.” He missed the omega dearly, picturing him far away in a foreign land.

Kai wasn’t truly alone, he reminded himself; he had a husband who loved him, someone who care for him. At least, Beomgyu desperately hoped it was true. It was with deep heaviness in his heart that he had declined to go with him.

His parents’ deaths had left him and his two siblings orphaned. At sixteen, he’d been deemed old enough to work and support himself, but his younger siblings had been sent to an orphanage, where they remained. He couldn’t possibly burden Kai with his responsibilities.

He closed his eyes and sighed. Despite the unease in his heart, he was tired from the day’s labor and a new arrangement. The cool night air drifted in through the open window, carrying the scent of night-blooming plants as he fell asleep.

Notes:

hope you guys enjoy the new chapter 🫶🏼😽

Chapter 9: Portrait of Mother

Summary:

Kai woke up the next morning after his vision from last night. Was it real or just his imagination?

A piano.

A lullaby was playing as Kai drifted between sleep and wake. He imagined himself back in his childhood bedroom, his mother was playing a lullaby on a piano to soothe him to sleep.

Then he opened his eyes to find Yeonjun’s head on the pillow beside him. His first impulse was to wake him up and tell the alpha about what had happened last night. What he saw… but what had he seen?

The older had brushed off Kai’s insistence that he had seen a woman in the elevator and told him not to go below the basement. What would he say if Kai told him that a deformed, blood-coated skeleton had emerged from the floor of his house? He had no proof. A part of Kai feared his lover would laugh it off like Taeri and her friends used to.

Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe I was going mad. Perhaps he had a fever, Kai felt his forehead. His skin was clammy. And he didn’t feel very well. Perhaps because of the dinner.

Soobin cooked their meal, and he knew that the beta had not been raised to cook his meals. The brothers were stretching every penny when it came to food spending. Perhaps the meat had gone bad. Yet, both Yeonjun and Soobin seemed well.

Perhaps too much wine then, they had opened two bottles to celebrate their marriage last night. Yeonjun had confessed that reading his manuscript had given him shivers. His alpha lay so peacefully beside him, and he didn’t want to disturb him with his strangeness.

The omega drifted back to sleep and woke up with a sliver of sunlight filtered through the curtains. The soft melody of the piano was still playing. Someone had likely been playing for hours.

It must be late in the morning. Despite the late hour, his body felt heavy, unrefreshed, as if he hadn’t slept at all. With a soft groan, Kai finally pushed himself up from the bed. He put on his robe and left the room.

The long hallway stretched before him, hushed and grand. Guided by the ever-louder music, he wandered deeper into the house until he found himself standing at the threshold of an enormous room.

It was a library, clearly, but unlike any Kai had ever seen. The room was full of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Interspersed among the books were glass cases, filled with an eclectic collection of curiosities: polished skulls, gleaming trinkets, and antique instruments.

In the center of the room, Soobin sat, playing an antique grand piano while oil portraits stared down from the walls. Their painted eyes seemed to follow Kai as he stood mesmerized in the doorway.

Soobin let his hands fall from the keys, the final, lingering chord fading in the silence of the room. His gaze, calm and strangely knowing, found his.

Feeling flustered and caught, he hurried to apologize. “Oh, I am so sorry. I interrupted you. I—”

“Quite the opposite,” Soobin replied smoothly. He turned slightly on the piano bench, his posture relaxed. “Did I wake you with my playing?”

Rubbing his temples, Kai confessed, “I slept very little. I…”

“You did?” Soobin asked, his brow furrowing slightly. “Why?”

Kai made the same decision to keep last night’s visions from the beta, if they even were visions. They were evidence of a fevered imagination. He felt sweat slowly gathering on his brow and upper lip. Soobin was still waiting for his reply with an expectant gaze.

“I’m still exhausted.” Kai managed, the lie feeling flimsy even to his own ears. It made no sense, really. Someone who was exhausted would fall asleep easily, would they not? He was determined to change the subject, to escape the scrutiny of Soobin’s gaze.

His eyes flickered to the grand piano. “That piece of music,” he blurted, “What is it?”

A faint smile touched Soobin’s lips, softening his features even further. “An old lullaby,” he replied. “I used to sing it to Yeonjun when we were little. He was so restless sometimes, even back then.”

Kai found himself genuinely smiling, a warmth blooming in his chest. “I can imagine it,” he said, painting a picture in his mind. “The two of you right here in this very room as children. You, picking out tunes on this piano. And Yeonjun, undoubtedly coming up with his inventions.” The image was so vivid, so sweet, it almost made him forget the shadows lurking at the edges of this manor.

Soobin’s eyelids lowered, a veil drawing across his gaze as he retreated into a daze of thought. “We were not allowed in here as children. We were confined to the nursery. In the attic.”

Kai had the distinct sense that Soobin was holding tightly onto memories, not just possessing them, but guarding them with a fierce grip, memories he did not wish to share, especially with him. The older had maintained firm possession of all his memories as tightly as the household keys, and he felt rather locked out.

But he felt compassion for Soobin. Of course, he would be possessive of Yeonjun. They had only had each other to turn to since childhood. Kai realized he was expecting too much too soon.

“I sometimes play the piano as well. Mother taught me a few songs.” He tried to uplift the mood.

Soobin motioned toward a large painting of an unsmiling, elderly woman with a skull-like face. She had the coldest eyes Kai had ever seen, and her mouth was set in an angry, stern line.

“Our mother,” he said simply.

Kai was shocked. The woman seemed more like a grandmother. Yeonjun had told him that their mother had passed when he was fourteen, nearly the same age Kai had been when his own mother had died. And his mother had been young and beautiful.

“She looks…” he ventured and had no idea how to politely proceed.

“Horrible,” Soobin said bitterly. “She looks just like in the painting.”

Kai approached the painting and then noticed the huge garnet ring on the ring finger of the withered left hand. It was the engagement ring Yeonjun had given him. It was on his hand now. He glanced down at the ring on his finger, and it unsettled him.

“Yeonjun wanted to take down her portrait. But I didn’t want to,” Soobin said. “I like to think she can see us from up there. I don’t want her to miss anything we do,” he smirked, as if he were sharing an inside joke with the portrait.

“This room is I think my favorite room in the house,” Kai said, both to change the subject and because it happened to be true.

“Mine, too.” Soobin smiled briefly, but it was a warmer smile than he had with his mother’s portrait. “I read every book in this room. Specifically entomology.”

“Insects.” Kai filled in.

“Insects, yes. I like the fact that they do what needs to be done to assure their survival. Even their beauty and grace are only means to ensure their species—”

“Are these all your books?” Kai asked quickly. Anything to stop him talking about how moths eat butterflies, he thought.

“Mother selected most of these. Had them brought from afar.”

Kai skimmed a few of the titles of the dozens if not hundreds of books.

“Oratory of a pilgrim,” he read off the spine of one of the volumes.

Soobin almost grinned. “Sounds quite virtuous, doesn’t it?” He paused, then added, “Have you heard of a fore-edge illustration?”

Kai shook his head, and the older took the book. “They are images hidden in the book’s fore-edge, carefully concealed as a pattern until you bend the pages so…”

He bent the side of the book so that it curved, revealing a colorful painting of a couple performing sexual acts upon each other.

Kai was baffled and unsure how to respond.

“Oh…Are all the books?” He started.

“Surely that can’t shock you now?” Soobin said. “Now that Yeonjun and you…”

Kai shook his head. He was actually beginning to feel closer to Soobin. It was good to have another person to talk to.

“No, no. He was so respectful of my mourning. We even slept in separate rooms while we traveled.

Soobin’s face seemed to brighten at that. Or perhaps he was amused.

“How considerate,” he drawled. “Well, my darling, in time, everything will be alright.”

Those were comforting words if they were true. Kai smiled at him, but the other man did not notice and went back to playing. He and Soobin share similar interests, such as books and playing piano, but they couldn’t be more different.

He glanced back up at the portrait of Lady Choi. Yeonjun hadn’t mentioned anything about his parents other than that both of them died when he was young. He had assumed that at the time, the alpha didn’t wish to bring up his dead parents so soon after his father’s death. If Kai could get him to talk about the house’s past and perhaps ghost stories. Who had died here, and how… and why?

 

The soft, intricate melodies of Soobin’s piano continued to weave through the house, a wistful piece that wrapped around Kai even as he quietly slipped away from the room.

Upon entering the bedroom, he discovered that Yeonjun was gone. The bed, neatly made, held only the faint, familiar scent of the alpha. He must be off to work now.

Kai decided to freshen up. A splash of cool water on his face, and a glance in the mirror showed a reflection a little less stressed than it had been mere weeks ago. He thoughtfully selected one of his favorite outfits: a soft, perfectly tailored shirt in a serene shade of blue, paired with comfortable yet elegant charcoal trousers.

As he picked up a silver-backed brush and ran it slowly through his slightly damp hair, he found his gaze fixed on his own image, but his mind drifted far away. He wasn’t seeing the room he now inhabited, but the grand estate of his childhood. He saw the high ceilings, the soft warm light from the light bulbs, the quiet, efficient bustle of the household staff.

He was overcome by a wave of sadness. All the servants, dozens of faces he had known since birth, would now be dispersed. They would be seeking new placements. It felt like an abrupt, almost brutal severance from the world he grew up in.

He thought specifically of Beomgyu, his kind and ever-loyal friend. He hoped with a deep sincerity that his friend would quickly find a new, respectable employer.

His family residence would soon be sold, and everything in it. This unfamiliar space was his new home now. He yearned to start a new life here, one unburdened by the ghosts of the past. With everything happened, he had never sent his manuscript to The Atlantic Monthly, and now he was glad. He had more ideas for the story.

He settled into the worn, comfortable chair. Before him sat his new typewriter, a sleek, obsidian black machine. He ran a finger over its cool keys, a silent invitation to work on his novel. He cracked his knuckles, took a deep breath, and prepared to dive into the world he was crafting.

But the day, already draped in a grey light filtering through the window, passed drearily. Every quiet corner of the room seemed to amplify Yeonjun’s absence. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but the words wouldn’t come. He found himself easily distracted.

As the day slowly bled into the twilight, Kai leaned against the cold window frame of their ancient manor. His gaze was drawn instinctively downwards. There, at the very base of the Manor, a small cluster of figures moved amidst the fading light.

His husband, Yeonjun, was unmistakable even from a distance, his silhouette tall and purposeful, surrounded by a couple of the sturdy men from the nearby village.

A familiar, almost nostalgic symphony of machinery vibrated through the very panes of glass against Kai’s cheek. He knew exactly what he was looking at. He had grown up around similar equipment.

There weren’t just one or two, but several of these machine parts sprawled across the expansive yard. They were testing the clay mining machine, a monstrous contraption designed to scoop the rich, red earth that lay beneath the Manor’s grounds.

And it was, to put it mildly, utter chaos in the yard of the old house. A cacophony of grinding gears, metallic screeches, and the shouted instructions of the men echoed off the stone walls.

Despite the disarray, a wave of admiration bloomed inside him as he watched Yeonjun. His alpha was a visionary man, someone who could see things that others could not. Kai felt a swelling pride for his alpha’s relentless drive.

A sharp gnawing in his gut pulled Kai from his trance. His stomach was grumbling from the absence of food. Sighing, he pushed away from the window and went down to the kitchen.

He found a half-loaf of bread on the counter and, with a craving for something simple and sweet, tore a generous piece off, slathering it with jam. He nibbled on it slowly, letting the sugar and the familiar chewiness soothe him.

Then he began to assemble a few sandwiches for Yeonjun and the men, knowing they’d be famished after their strenuous work. His stomach felt a little better, but he was beginning to get a headache from the noise outside.

With another sigh, he moved to the stove and started to brew some of the firethorn tea. He remembered Soobin used the one from the red tin. Its terribly bitter taste was an acquired one, but Yeonjun said the medicinal properties were wonderful for him.

A grimace tightened his lips as the first steamy, earthy scent of the concoction wafted through the kitchen. He should go down to Yeonjun, bringing the sandwiches and tea. Perhaps, he could find a moment to ask about the house’s history.

Snowflakes fell gently from the sky as he walked outside. The air was briskly chill, and Kai shivered, knowing that having a little hot tea break after working must be the best idea right now.

He watched Yeonjun working hard at the full-scale model of the machine he had demonstrated in Buffalo. Had father not been overly protective of him, his alpha would have certainly gotten enough funds for the invention.

“Kai, my love,” Yeonjun greeted him, although his voice was a little strained. He was attempting to connect a part of the machine with the rest of it. By the furrow in his brow and the frustrated huff that escaped him, it clearly wasn’t going well. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be warming yourself by the fire.”

“I came to see you,” he answered. “And I… I need to talk to you.”

Yeonjun paused, his gaze flicking from the machine part to Kai, then back again, his mind clearly still tethered to his work.

“Of course, of course,” the alpha murmured, his tone distracted.

Kai took a deep breath. “I don’t know where to begin,” he confessed.

“Yeonjun, has anyone died in this house?”

His husband’s only answer was a quizzical smile with a slight tilt of his head. “Of course, darling,” he said, turning fully now, though his shoulders remained tense. “What kind of question is that? This house is hundreds of years old. I would assume that many, many souls have come and gone.”

“I understand that,” Kai said patiently. “But I’m talking about specific deaths. Violent deaths.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on Yeonjun’s face, searching for something.

The older man blinked, his smile faltering. “This is not a good moment, Kai.” He sighed, running a hand through his already dishevelled dark hair. “This frustrating machine simply won’t start. It’s an absolute disaster. We’ve been at it all afternoon.”

He returned to his task. But Kai would not be deterred.

“Can we take a moment, Yeonjun?” he said more urgently. “I brought you some sandwiches and a bit of tea.”

“Tea? You made tea?” The alpha made an odd face and returned to his work.

“What tin did you use?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What tin did you use?” the alpha repeated. “The red or the blue one?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s all the same, isn’t it? Tea is tea.”

“Try it again,” Yeonjun told his man.

The machine rattled loudly. Some gears rotated briefly before spamming violently. Yeonjun quickly grasped a valve and held on tightly.

The rattling increased tenfold, and still, his husband did not let go. Then, with a chilling hiss, sprays of stinging steam began to jet from the pipes. Yeonjun held on tightly, sweat beading on his forehead, trying manfully to hold the machinery together with his bare hands.

Kai’s breath hitched in his throat. He could see, even through the swirling steam, that it was hurting him. Yet the alpha held it fast. His face was growing red from the exertion. Then a hot stream of water hissed violently, spraying Yeonjun’s hand; he jerked back, pale face twisted in anguish as he screamed in pain.

With the help of the men and his own considerable strength, Kai managed to carry his stubborn husband through the main hall and into the warmth of the Choi family kitchen.

He was quite literally covered with red clay that clung to his clothes and hair, making him look less like a man and more like a macabre statue. The vibrant, rust-red color was deceptively beautiful, yet to Kai’s horrified eyes, it was identical to dried blood, sending a cold shiver down his spine.

The Chois kept a cupboard of salves and remedies, and he carefully applied the cool, fragrant cream to the raw flesh of his husband’s hand.

Even with the clay cleaned off his right hand, the skin beneath pulsed faintly with the heat of the deep burns. The silence in the kitchen was broken only by Yeonjun’s barely audible hiss of pain.

“That should do it for now,” Kai murmured, his voice soft with concern and a touch of relief, as he finished wrapping the clean linen bandage neatly around the injured hand.

Yeonjun, leaning back against the table, flexed his bandaged fingers, a wry smile playing on his lips. “My hands are getting rough. Calloused and scarred. Your father said hands should tell a story of honest work. He’d certainly approve of this.” He said it wistfully.

Kai nodded quietly with a pang of understanding. He knew that Yeonjun still felt the burden of his father’s expectations.

“The machine will never work,” the alpha grumbled, more to himself than to Kai. “Never. Why do I keep deluding myself?” He looked down at his bandaged hand, then at the clay still caked under his fingernails.

“You shouldn’t give up hope,” Kai reached out, his voice firm but gentle. He had to be Yeonjun’s anchor no matter what. He had to believe in him, even when Yeonjun couldn’t believe in himself.

“Hope?” Yeonjun signed. He looked up, his eyes meeting Kai’s. “Kai, hope is the cruelest of feelings. I normally stay as far away from it as possible.”

As the older sat close to him, his scent filled Kai’s lungs, sending a shiver of longing down his spine. Yeonjun’s very proximity and the captivating scent he emitted always pulled at something deep within him, igniting a familiar warmth in his stomach.

The alpha shifted, his gaze landing on Kai, “But now, something has changed in me.” His eyes, normally guarded, searched the omega’s face with an intensity. “Why did I bring you here, my darling?”

His calloused hand reached out, hovering as if to touch. “Who did you marry?” He almost whispered, then the words twisted into a bitter self-loathing. “A failure.”

Kai felt suffocated by the self-deprecating words coming from the alpha. This dark shadow that often consumed Yeonjun was something he yearned to banish. “You are all that I have,” he murmured, his voice thick with unreserved love.

Overwhelmed by his affection and a desperate need to soothe his alpha, he leaned in, pressing his lips to Yeonjun’s. It was a tender, seeking kiss, meant to convey everything words could not.

He felt the man stiffen, as he usually did—mindful of his mourning—and then he relented. Surrendered, melting into the kiss with a sigh that spoke volumes of his inner conflict, his body relaxing slightly against Kai’s.

But the moment, fragile as it was, couldn’t last. Yeonjun pulled away, the warmth from his lips lingering on Kai’s, but his mind was already shifting, his gaze becoming distant, eager to get back to his work. “The men leave at nightfall, and it’s gonna snow soon.”

They both stood, the quiet intimacy of moments before shattering as they started heading back towards the main hall. Kai swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. He told himself with a quiet determination that tonight he would make the alpha talk.

Notes:

poor Kai was always freaked out by the topics Soobin talked about lol

Chapter 10: A Nightmare?

Notes:

Apologies for the late update! I recently adopted two kittens, and my routine has been completely disrupted. Enjoy a little yeonkai!

As winter arrived and the days progressed, Kai dedicated more time to writing his novel. He felt increasingly inspired by this centuries-old manor. The house’s atmosphere seemed to seep into his words like ink into parchment.

Something had changed in Yeonjun. He knew his alpha had been holding back affection because of his mourning, but he longed to reclaim the intimacy that had receded between them.

Today, Kai wore champagne-colored satin that was cinched tight with a corset. He styled his hair just as he had done on the night of the Kang party, a night when their connection had felt undeniable. He took a moment to gather himself before stepping into the elevator, then climbed in and pulled down the lever.

As the elevator rose, he surveyed the house. The structure was wounded, and moths and flies seemed to emerge from the cracks of the walls. The lift finally jerked to a stop at the highest floor of the house, the attic.

It seemed wrong to place a nursery in the attic. Soobin had said they were confined to the nursery when they were kids. He had used the word “confined” like they were prisoners. But there’s no doubt this floor is supposed to be a nursery.

The first room he entered was incredibly dusty and neglected. A cradle and toy chest occupied a corner near a window. More moths trembled, glued to the walls and the ceiling, staining it a deep brown. They shifted and flew, swooping close to his head.

He followed the sound of a whirring drill into a dark, wonderful room filled with gears, clocks, and mechanical inventions. And there he was, with his back to him, Yeonjun was refining the prototype of his mining machine. The heavy snowfall had halted progress on the full-scale model, so he focused on refining the smaller version instead. To keep warm in the chilly weather, he had wrapped a woolen blanket around his shoulders.

“Do you like it?” the alpha asked him without looking up from his work.

Kai raised his brows, taking in the sight before him. “It’s wonderful,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “But how did you know I was here?”

Yeonjun turned around with a grin, his eyes twinkling with pride. “The creak of the floorboards,” he replied. “It’s easy to sense when you are not alone in this house.”

Kai was tempted once more to speak of the things he may or may not have seen, but he held his tongue. Instead, he pointed to the array of incredible inventions.

“Did you make all of these?” Kai asked, his eyes wide with admiration as he glanced at the intricately carved toys displayed before him. The alpha nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. “I used to carve toys for Soobin, crafting trinkets to keep him happy.” As Kai observed the delicate details and the care put into each toy, he couldn’t help but feel the deep bond they shared.

“Were you alone?” he asked. “Here? All the time?”

“Father was always traveling, wasting away our family fortune. He wasn’t the type to stay put, let alone nurture a crumbling estate. The money didn’t lose itself, you know.”

Kai understood the alpha’s bitterness, for he shared the same sentiment. The house had deteriorated so rapidly. The upkeep of a home such as this must be constant. A few years of neglect, and it would show its age. A few decades, and it would be as if disease had ravaged it. Harrowing Heights was truly dying, and Kai wondered if even his fortune could save it.

But despite everything, this room was a happy one, and its owner seemed truly joyful to see him taking it all in. The alpha hovered over Kai as he investigated the figure of a white-faced gentleman with painted black hair, a red harlequin diamond outlining his left eye and two golden cups in his hands.

“This is the magician,” Yeonjun announced, his voice filled with pride. He then pushed a lever, and the little puppet made a show of passing the cups over a tiny golden ball. Enchanted, Kai followed the passage of the ball beneath the cups until pop! It appeared in his mouth, and he pretended to drop it into one of the bowls. Of course, there was another inside one of the cups, but he laughed at the clever trick.

His alpha’s lips curved into a soft, almost shy grin that melted something in Kai’s chest. Then, his fingers gently brushed against the silken strands of the omega’s golden hair, sending an unexpected jolt through the younger man.

As his fingers wove deeper, a familiar melancholy that Kai had started to recognize crossed his features. Then it quickly shifted to a masculine hunger that glittered in the alpha’s gaze, now clear and obvious.

“You are so different,” Yeonjun murmured, his voice low, and his fingers still woven in Kai’s hair, a possessive anchor. His eyes, dark and searching, roamed over every plane of the omega’s face, tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, as if memorizing every detail.

“Different from whom?” Kai asked, his own voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor of anticipation that ran through him.

The older blinked slowly, as if surfacing from deep water, his gaze refocusing on Kai. “Everyone, I would say,” he added.

And then… the breath Kai hadn’t realized he was holding hitched. Yeonjun lowered his head, a slow, deliberate movement, his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, meeting Kai’s for a charged second. Then, his lips found Kai’s. It was a deep, hungry press of pent-up desire. Not just mouth on mouth, but skin on skin, hot and electric.

His mouth moved with a newfound freedom, tracing the curve of Kai’s jaw, pressing against his temple, lingering, teasing. The faint, intoxicating scent of Yeonjun’s distinctive alpha musk surrounded him, grounding and utterly consuming.

If Yeonjun felt more than he felt now, Kai did not understand how the older could have held back all this time. He saw himself bursting free of his cocoon of innocence, ready to fly into Yeonjun’s arms and his heart, and he into Kai’s flesh.

The older put his hands on Kai’s breasts with gentleness, which were pushed up by the boning at the top of his corset, and the omega arched his back with a gasp. His head fell back against the alpha’s shoulder, a silent invitation of his throat.

“Kai,” The older man’s voice was thick with desire. His fingers tightened for a moment, then softened, almost pulling away. “You’re still in mourning, and—”

Kai didn’t let him finish. “No. It is time. It is time,” he insisted, his voice more command than plea. His fingers, trembling slightly, found the alpha’s shirt, pulling him closer.

The older seemed to crack under the weight of Kai’s gaze and his urgent touch. Tools clattered loudly as they were shoved aside, and in one fluid, eager motion, he lifted Kai and pushed him onto the clear surface.

He leaned over Kai, raining hungry kisses over his face, along his jawline, and then devouring the soft, sensitive skin of his neck. Kai’s hands tangled in Yeonjun’s hair, pulling him closer, lost in the dizzying rush of sensation.

Then the older stopped abruptly and jerked away from the omega. Pulling himself upright, his eyes were darting around the workshop’s shadows. He looked almost… frightened.

“What’s wrong?” Kai asked, pushing himself from the table.

“I heard a noise,” the alpha blurted out, taking another step back, putting distance between them, his eyes fixed on the door.. “I thought…” His voice trailed off.

“What?” Kai waited for his answer as he slipped off the table. “You thought what?”

Before the alpha could answer, the door creaked open, revealing the tall, elegant figure of Soobin. He carried a tea tray with quiet grace. The teapot was quite beautiful.

“I was hoping to find you here,” His brother-in-law said, with as much warmth as he seemed to be able to muster. His eyes, though polite, lingered for a fraction too long on Kai’s slightly disheveled state and the alpha’s stiff posture. “I made you some fresh tea.”

The English certainly loved their tea. Kai watched as Soobin put down the tray and handed him a steaming cup. There was a spoon on his saucer, though not on the others, and Kai figured it must have been intended for serving the sugar. Soobin did not comment on the mess on the floor. The beta was too polite, Kai thought, or disinterested?

Beside them, Yeonjun was still flustered. As he rearranged his clothes, avoiding his eyes, Kai thought he looked ashamed. Perhaps he was concerned that he had placed Kai in an embarrassing situation. His alpha was truly chivalrous. But Kai wished the older had taken his chances. If Soobin had come into the room any later…

Kai managed a small smile. “You’re very kind, Soobin.”

“Don’t mention it. I heard the elevator. I needed the company.” The beta gestured to the bowl of sugar cubes. “One lump or two?”

 

---

Flowers on a grave, in the snow.

The Huening belongings had been packed up, yet for Taehyun, there was no sense of finality. He placed his bouquet at the foot of the Huening monument, wondering if the dead rested in peace.

He remembered how insistent little Kai had been that his mother’s ghost had haunted him shortly after her hideous death. His friend had been nearly hysterical, and Taehyun had pretended to believe him.

But he had been the only one. Kai’s father had soothed his fearful child by reminding him that he possessed a “fevered imagination.”

His thoughts were interrupted by the crunch of footsteps in the snow. Mr. Ferguson had arrived.

“You asked to see me?” the elderly lawyer asked, as they tipped hats to one another. Then he studied the grave.

“Perhaps it all ended well enough. Kai seems to have found happiness, don’t you agree?”

It was clear to Taehyun that Ferguson was testing the waters.

“I haven’t heard a word from him,” the younger replied.

“I have. Kai asked me to transfer all his assets to England.”

Kai is giving his fortune to Choi, Taehyun realized with a jolt. Which, as a married omega, was of course his right. But he couldn’t help but feel that it was wrong. And dangerous.

“Did he really?” he asked.

“Every penny.” Ferguson was trying to remain neutral, but it was clear to Taehyun that he was also troubled.

“I’ve sent the papers and await only his signature. He seems to be investing all of it in those clay mines of his husband, and I have no choice but to obey.”

With Ferguson’s frank admission, Taehyun decided to be more direct.

“The manner of Mr. Huening’s death—the impact on his head. He had shaving cream on his cheek. He was likely in front of the mirror. That is inconsistent with the diagonal injuries he sustained against the basin’s corner.” Taehyun paused, for now he was about to move into dangerous territory.

Something changed in Ferguson’s face; he was dropping his facade and letting down his guard, as Taehyun had done.

“If I may confide,” Ferguson began, and he leaned in close. “Before Nabel Huening died, he hired a private investigator named David.” He waited a beat and continued. “And the last check from him was made out to Sir Yeonjun Choi, on the very night he announced his departure. You were there. The night Kai slapped him.”

Taehyun was intent, “What are you trying to say?”

“Look, Doctor, Nabel Huening was no fool. And he liked you. Always mentioned you as someone worthy of his trust,” he said pointedly.

Taehyun was moved and conflicted. This mystery was far from over. Yet was he the one who should persist in unraveling it?

“I would love to visit Kai,” Ferguson said. “But I am old and tired. A trip like that requires a younger man than me.” He glanced sideways at Taehyun, who nodded in understanding.

They agreed, then. And Taehyun would not fail.

 

---

Sick.

Feeling so sick.

Kai awoke with his stomach churning with nausea. He had felt seasickness on the crossing from New York to London, but this was ten times worse.

“Yeonjun? Yeonjun?” he murmured urgently.

Moonlight revealed that he was alone. Hurriedly, he lit a candle in the silver candelabra and stared in shock at a bloodstain on his pillow, next to his mouth. Kai touched his lips.

Then he heard the rustle of silk.

In the air, the scent of…

“Jasmine,” he murmured, his brow furrowing in confusion; it was a fragrance that belonged neither to him nor to his alpha.

And suddenly, he knew without a doubt that there was something in the room—something with them.

Or someone.

But he saw nothing. Their bedroom, as he cautiously examined it, appeared the same as always. On the rumpled bed lay the impression of his body from where he had slept. And besides that, there was evidence that Yeonjun had been in bed as well. Next to the fireplace, a half-full glass of deep burgundy wine sat, which he assumed belonged to Yeonjun. A book rested nearby, and while he wanted to see what the alpha had been reading, he suddenly felt afraid to cross the room to look.

Kai felt it, sensed eyes on him, a near-caress on the nape of his neck. Nerve-deep tremors shuddered through him and knocked against his ribcage, the inside of his skull. His cheeks and forehead tingled. Was it behind him? Beside him?

Or was he dying, and thus able to commune with the dead of the Manor? Is that why he had been able to see his mother’s ghost?

Why am I bleeding? Why am I feeling so sick?

Moon shadows stole across his curtains; did the wine in Yeonjun’s goblet ripple against the rim?

The tension that gripped him was unbearable. It was making his stomach cramp and now a headache pressed hard on both sides of his head. If an invisible force was trying to contact him, he should make an effort, too.

Kai swallowed hard and extended his hand.

“If you are here, with me,” he began. He almost stopped out of sheer fear. But he could not stop. He could not hover here forever; just as when he had been compelled to identify his poor father’s ruined face, he stepped over his fear and acted.

“Give me a signal,” he said clearly. “Touch my hand.”

There was nothing, only the sound of his breathing.

But the room still held something, and he was trapped in here with it. He swayed, even more nauseated.

And waited.

Nothing. His shoulders drooped, but he felt no relief, none at all.

Very well, then, Kai thought, perhaps it is only my imagina—

Then something grabbed his hand and half-threw him to the floor. Impossibly strong and violent. The impact jolted the breath out of him, and yellow dots exploded in his vision. If he’d had time to resist it, his effort would have proved useless. Then, the candle went out.

Trembling, Kai got to his feet and struggled to light it again. There is something here. Oh, my God, there is no doubt—

Screams of pain—shrill and horrible—emerged from the bathroom. Without a second’s hesitation, he sprinted to the doors and flung them open. There was utter blankness, blackness, nothing at all, and then…

Submerged, partially visible above brimming crimson water.

Decayed, barely recognizable as a human corpse. Clasping the sides of the tub as it soaked, head drooped forward, and Kai was paralyzed with horror.

The skull—its head was split with the blade of a meat cleaver, firmly and deeply embedded in the bone. He could see the red brain, the bone fragments, maggots crawling in the gore.

Kai could make no sound; he could only stare, only see.

Then the ghastly figure twitched and moved. The scarlet water spilled over the sides of the tub as the figure rose. Its—her—twisted face and sagging chest were covered in blood.

And Kai knew who she was.

“Oh God, no!” he shrieked.

He ran out of the room, down the corridor. “Yeonjun!” he screamed. “Yeonjun!”

Reverberating along the passageway, an unearthly voice hissed, “You! Leave now!”

The thing he had escaped was now running towards at full speed. It stood at the far end of the hall: a naked red hag with a cleaver in its skull. Her eyes were wild with rage and madness. She pointed a skeletal finger straight at Kai.

“Leave now!” she rasped.

Kai backed away, wheeling around as he reached the stairs, and ran into Yeonjun as he was turning the corner. His savior, his alpha. He threw himself into his arms, sobbing. He is safe now, safe.

“Kai, Kai, what is it?” Yeonjun demanded, embracing the omega.

Kai focused. Gazed around fearfully, seeing… nothing. Knowing now that it could be there, still be there, coming for them both, right this moment. Refusing to be seen.

“That thing, that horrible thing!” he cried.

“Your hand’s like ice.” Yeonjun touched his forehead. “Are you running a fever? Look at me.”

And when he did, the alpha’s lips parted. He must have finally seen how terrified Kai was.

“What happened?”

“I saw a woman,” he told him, and rushed on before he could contradict him. “Not a shadow, not a trick of the light. Scarlet, and full of rage. Her head was open—a horrible, gaping wound.” Kai’s skin was buzzing with electricity as if it were trying to crawl off his body.

His knees were rubbery and he would have fallen if the older had not held him. The omega was stunned, but he went on.

“Her face was distorted, twisted, but I recognized her.” He gazed hard at his husband, willing him to really listen to him. To understand what Kai had seen with his own eyes, he said, “She was the woman in the portrait. She was your mother.”

His alpha allowed him to drag him from the hall, down to the sofa before the great fireplace, where shadows could not lurk. Soobin appeared with tea; Kai was shuddering, nearly losing himself again, but needing desperately to get it all out. They could only see that he was sick and incoherent. Nothing he described made any sense to them.

“There was hatred in her eyes. And intelligence. She knew who I was. And she wants me to leave.” Kai ground out the words in sheer misery, in shock, desperate for their help.

“Nonsense, my dear,” Soobin soothed. “You are not going anywhere. You had a bad dream. You were sleepwalking.” He poured a cup of hot amber liquid.

“But I am afraid I shall go mad if I stay.” Flanked by his only two relations in the world, Kai felt himself begin to descend into hysteria once more.

“You are imagining things,” Yeonjun insisted. “Tomorrow we’ll go out.” He spoke to him as if he were a child. “To the post office. The fresh air will do you good.”

To the post office? Kai couldn’t believe what the alpha was saying. He had crossed an ocean to be here with him.

“No, I want to go,” he demanded. And then, in case Yeonjun misunderstood, he added, pleaded, “Away from here.”

His hands were shaking. Soobin helped him steady them so that Kai could drink his tea, forcing him to hold onto the cup. Giving him an anchor point so that he would not shatter.

“Kai, there is nowhere else to go,” the beta said kindly, as one might speak to a child. “This is your home now. You have nowhere else to go.”

 

Soobin eyes his brother. He was frightened. His brother was too.

What mischief is this? his gaze demanded.

Of course there was something in the tea to make the omega sleep. After he passed out, the two conferred in the hallway, dark clothes shifting in the blue night gloom like two black moths.

“What is he doing?” he whispered fiercely. “How could he possibly know?”

“I didn’t tell him a thing,” the alpha vowed.

That scared him even more. “What is he trying to do, Yeonjun?” As if asking the question repeatedly would yield a different answer.

“I don’t know,” his brother said. “He is in a bad state. Tomorrow I’ll go to Cumberland to pick up the machine parts. I’ll take him with me so he can get some fresh air.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “Get him out of here.” He glared at Yeonjun. “And as soon as we get the final papers signed, I want this over with.”

Notes:

I hope people are still reading this! (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) I really really want to finish this story!