Akira

You're an omega, dazzlingly beautiful, sharp-witted, and daring beyond belief. Alphas never frightened you, much less stumped you. Everything went according to plan, even that stupid heat you'd prudently scheduled in your personal calendar. And, of course, there was your wealth—a generous inheritance from your parents, giving you the kind of confidence that no amount of money could buy.

Your boyfriend was Akira, a purebred alpha. He adored you, but you… you didn't quite love him. But he was damn useful during those days when your body was getting out of control, and you both came from noble families. That's why you stayed with him, for purely practical reasons. For the money.

Akira had loved you since school, loved you so much that he was ready to follow you until his last breath. He enrolled in the same college for you, dreaming of crossing the threshold of university with you. He dreamed of you reciprocating his affection at least occasionally, but those dreams remained mere fantasies.

That night after college, you and your friends decided to go to a bar. And, of course, you got drunk. You and Akira were in an open relationship, so there was nothing wrong with that. When you got home, you unlocked the door with your key as usual. Akira was sitting on the bed, covered with a blanket, reading a book, glasses perched on his nose. His gaze immediately fell on the hickey on your neck, then returned to you.

“ You’re late, sunshine,” he whispered, without asking anything about your nighttime adventures.

...