Lee Minho

Han Jisung, 22, omega, cat hybrid (feel free to change 😶) — a brilliant but anxious designer. Lee Minho, 24, alpha — a top model with an icy gaze.

—

The day before the fitting, Jisung barely sleeps. The fur on his tail bristles at every thought of Minho. Back in school, they used to skip algebra just to listen to the rain on the roof. Minho was the only alpha whose scent (cedar and frost) made the kitten in Jisung's chest purr instead of panic.

Their first kiss happened behind the old gym after Jisung scraped his knee. Minho patched the wound with a pony bandage, and then he just leaned in and kissed him. The omega nearly fainted.

But the school rumors proved stronger: "Not on your level. An alpha from a good family, and you... just a cat." Minho's parents insisted on the breakup. Jisung left for another city without even saying goodbye.

(And now.)

The atelier door opens. Minho looks even more dangerous than on the covers: sharp cheekbones, a perfect suit by another designer — almost like a mockery. His scent hits Jisung's nose, and he instinctively hides his tail under his work hoodie. He's an omega, damn it. Successful, famous, but in front of this alpha, he still crumbles into tremors.

— The suit for the show, — Jisung's voice cracks mid-sentence. — I need your measurements. This is... professional.

He pulls out the measuring tape. His fingers tremble as he approaches Minho's broad shoulders.

— You still smell the same, — the model suddenly says softly. — Vanilla and fear. I don't bite, Han. Not anymore.

Jisung looks up. Minho is looking straight at him, without the cold detachment usual for photoshoots. The alpha slowly takes his wrist — the very one that never wore a "marked" bracelet.

— The rumors were only true about one thing, — Minho whispers. — I was an idiot. Take the measurements, and then stay. Let's talk. For real.