Kiss the Stranger

I was momentarily dazed by the flood of pheromones. My vision washed out to white, and for an instant I felt as if I’d lost consciousness. Luckily, the man was still gripping my arm, so I only staggered instead of collapsing. I forced myself to focus and blinked, straining to see ahead.
Thank God I’d kept taking my suppressants even when I was alone. If I’d let my guard down and skipped a dose, everyone would already know I was an omega.
I fought to calm my racing heart, but I couldn’t draw a deep breath. Each inhale brought another wave of that thick pheromone scent, and instead of clearing my head, I had to cling to my sanity. I managed shallow, measured breaths as I tried to piece together my surroundings.

They’d brought me into a vast hall. Its size reminded me of the one where I’d first dined with the steward under the crown prince’s orders. Stained glass panels covered the walls, each pane a jewel of color that dazzled under the light of enormous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. A plush carpet swallowed every footstep, and scattered marble tables bore deep-red wine alongside mysterious powders and medicines.
Even with my mind fogged, I felt out of place. What was Kamar doing in a hall like this? He said he was going to induce “the rut.” How did that work? He claimed the drugs weren’t effective—could they still ramp up pheromone production?
“Your Highness, are you all right?”

The man who’d led me in hurried forward and asked. Only then did I notice him: alone on a colossal bed set against the far wall. My heart slammed so hard I nearly gasped aloud.
Asgail.
I swallowed the breath I’d nearly inhaled. He wasn’t the only one on the bed that could have swallowed the steward’s entire laboratory. Several attendants bustled around him, offering wine and straightening pillows. I saw one pour a glass to Asgail’s lips, then watch as he swallowed a pill in the wine. Everyone held their breath, waiting for his reaction—but Asgail didn’t speak.

He sighed, deep and weary, then leaned back against the cylindrical cushion and tipped his head up. Seeing him so spent nearly made me rush forward to hold him, but I forced myself to stay rooted in place.
A faint new scent mixed with the overwhelming pheromones, and Asgail finally spoke.
“It’s not doing much,” he said in a low, slow voice that dripped fatigue. He rubbed his temple with one hand, eyes closed.
“Nothing turned up in the steward’s chambers?” he asked.

“No….”
The man at my side faltered, then hurried on. “He supposedly took all the records before he left, but we brought his assistant. He was by his side the whole time—he must know something. Right?”
Suddenly Asgail turned his gaze on me. I flinched under that piercing stare. The other man holding my arm scowled and spoke up.

“Your Highness, if I may—this research involved us as well. You can trust us to proceed—”
His voice ended in a disgruntled silence, as if he meant, Why would you trust some foreign nobody over us? Asgail gave no reaction. Instead he addressed the first man.
“Are there any other omegas left?”

“No, that’s all of them. But if we administer a stimulant, we might extract more pheromones.”
At that, I finally saw the others: more than ten people kneeling opposite the bed. They were all naked.
Omegas.

I realized why another scent had mingled with Asgail’s own. It was omega pheromones. The men on the tables filled syringes from the powders, then began injecting each kneeling person one by one. Those dosed collapsed, convulsing. Asgail’s scent grew even stronger.
When the last injection was done, the attendant addressed Asgail. “With pheromones this potent, Your Highness will react as well. We’ll monitor and intervene as needed.”
One of the newly convulsing men twisted violently and grabbed the attendant’s leg. In that moment I saw it all: eyes unhinged, drool at the corners of his mouth, his erection standing rigid with excitement, and the slick of arousal soaking the floor. The man recoiling from him twisted the attacker free, but the fallen omegas writhed and moaned, clawing at themselves in agony. The scene was horrific and brutal, but I was the only one disturbed. The other men, including the one holding me, watched with cold disgust. To them, omegas weren’t human. And the instant they realized I was an omega, I’d become just like them. A wave of nausea rose in me.

“...Ugh.”
I couldn’t hold it back and vomited. The man holding me screamed and released my arm; my legs gave out and I collapsed, retching onto the carpet. I’d eaten long ago; all that came up was bitter stomach acid mixed with spit. Even that was little—the only sound was my empty stomach protesting. Forcing myself to stop, I raised my head; through blurred, tear-filled eyes I saw the men staring at me. One clicked his tongue and then addressed Asgail.
“I didn’t expect them to be so worthless. Maybe that American ran off and abandoned this brat? He must have left him as a distraction.”

“He didn’t,” I croaked in a hoarse, burning voice. I rushed to deny it, but the man glared and spat at me.
“If that’s true, then why did you bring someone like you as the assistant? A scrawny weakling who dares to vomit in front of His Highness.”
I had no answer. But I had to defend the steward.
“He didn’t run. He had no choice—something came up...”

“Nonsense!”
“Enough.”
A sudden voice cut between us. The man turned, and I blinked in surprise. Crown Prince Asgail was watching us. My mouth went dry and my heart pounded. I waited anxiously. Asgail fixed his gaze on me and spoke.

“Are you certain about the steward?”
His quiet tone held no emotion. I tried to swallow, but only my throat moved.
“Yes.”

I nodded as best I could. “I trust him.”
Asgail was silent for a moment. His eyes narrowed as if in a smile, but nothing more. Watching me struggle to understand, he ordered,
“Everyone out. Leave him here alone.”

“Your Highness?”
“What are you talking about...! How can you trust this brat?!”
An uproar rose. I was stunned, but Asgail’s expression remained blank as he continued.

“Weren’t you the ones who brought him here as the steward’s replacement? Or ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) are you standing around expecting to watch me harvest pheromones?”
His words dripped with contempt. The men exchanged uneasy glances. To stay was disloyal; to leave felt unjust.
“We acted out of loyalty to Your Highness...,” the lead attendant stammered. But Asgail only laughed, a cold sound.

“And what has all that loyalty achieved? Ha. Effort without results is meaningless.”
The lead attendant fell silent, shamefaced. The others hesitated, then one by one they glanced at me before departing. The door closed behind them, and I remained alone in the stifling pheromone haze with Asgail.