Chapter 7
725words
Urgent and rapid—a death knell.
I opened the door. The person standing outside froze my blood.
Talia.
Gone was the fragile, sweet Omega from our first meeting. Her eyes now held ice-cold determination.
"I know Etheris is here," she said bluntly, her voice flat and emotionless.
She looked past me into the house briefly, then met my eyes again.
"I heard you've developed a pheromone inhibitor."
Not a question. A statement.
"I need it."
I frowned. "You want suppressants? Don't you love Etheris? Do you understand the side effects?"
She burst into laughter—sharp and shrill. "You think I love him too?"
"Sure, it's 98% compatibility, the perfect Alpha-Omega match. Ha!"
Her voice dripped with self-mockery. "For me, it's just a curse. From the day of marking, I stopped being myself."
"His family treats me like a breeding machine—a puppet to produce the strongest Alpha heir."
"I tried running. I hid at the ends of the earth. Useless! No matter where I went, Etheris would appear.
I'd go to a restaurant—there's Etheris.
I'd escape to the countryside—Etheris would show up.
I even studied in another country—and still ran into him."
She clutched her arms tightly, nails digging into flesh.
"Every time he appears, my body betrays me—throwing itself at him, my pheromones desperate to please him. I've had ENOUGH!"
"Silodai! I'm tired of being a mindless zombie controlled by biology!"
She called my name.
Her voice cut like a poisoned dagger, piercing the secret pride I'd harbored.
Enigma.
Top of the food chain.
I'd always seen it as my medal—proof I stood above others.
But now, facing this Omega tortured beyond recognition by her "perfect match," my superiority crumbled to dust.
I'd developed suppressants to prove I could conquer everything—even the instincts encoded in our genes.
That was my Enigma arrogance.
But she was showing me this wasn't about conquest—it was survival.
She wasn't trying to overcome instinct; she was clawing her way out of a cage called "destiny."
For the first time, I truly examined myself.
Questioned the identity I was born with. The world I'd accepted without doubt.
I turned and walked to my lab, retrieving a silver syringe from the safe.
The liquid inside glowed deep blue, dangerously captivating under the light.
I handed it to Talia.
"This will permanently sever your pheromone connection to Etheris. You'll no longer be his "perfect match.' Your family will disown you. Society will label you an outcast." I spoke each word with absolute clarity. "Are you sure?"
She took the syringe, her fingertips ice-cold.
She smiled—the liberating, uninhibited smile of someone about to break free.
"I couldn't ask for anything more."
The door opened, then closed.
She left with grace, rushing toward a future that was finally her own.
I stood motionless for a long time.
Later, Talia and I jointly published what would become known as the "Declaration of Rebellion.'
"On the Dominant Influence of Spiritual Resonance on Partner Relationships."
We openly challenged the compatibility-score matching system, proposing instead the revolutionary concept of "spiritual resonance."
Society erupted in chaos.
Many cursed us as madmen and heretics. Etheris's family publicly disowned him as a disgrace.
But others began to speak up.
"Low compatibility" couples deeply in love. Souls trapped in "perfect matches" yet suffering unbearably. They emerged from the shadows as our most steadfast allies.
Talia's story spread like wildfire.
She became a symbol of liberation—a legend who broke free from fate's shackles. Countless Omegas idolized her, rebelling against their predefined lives.
Time flew by.
Etheris and I became the most controversial yet inseparable couple in scientific circles.
Our philosophy went from ridiculed to globally embraced.
Society changed—slowly but steadily.
One late night, Etheris's pheromones surged without warning.
The aftereffect of my marking—the price he paid for breaking free from his family's control.
I embraced him from behind, my pheromones enveloping him—gentle yet dominant—gradually calming his internal storm.
After a long while, he settled, leaning tiredly against my chest.
He turned his head, gray hair brushing my cheek, wrinkled eyes filled with tender love.
"They all said we were wrong for each other," he whispered.
I tightened my arms around him and kissed his forehead.
"You see, we've proven…"
"Love was never something data could calculate."
