Chapter 31: Alpha with Pheromone Disorder (31)
Song Qin’s susceptibility period had arrived.
Shui Que felt like he was going to die.
Compared to how Song Qin clung to him and refused to let go, his own habit of curling up in a small cardboard box to sleep during his susceptibility period seemed almost too normal.
Now, he didn’t even dare ask why Song Qin had kept stack after stack of his photos—because the man’s condition was clearly and absurdly terrible.
His damp shirt clung to the chill of the air, yet his body radiated heat, the contrast of cold and hot intertwining where their bodies touched.
Shui Que’s eyelashes trembled. He had never experienced such severe symptoms during a susceptibility period and asked worriedly, “Do you have a fever?”
The sleeve band on Song Qin’s arm hung loosely, and the hair at his temples was wet and disheveled. Shui Que had never seen him look this unkempt before.
Every breath exhaled the scent of sandalwood, laced with the dust in the air.
Shui Que started coughing uncontrollably from the irritation. His skin was sensitive, and the coughing immediately brought a flush of red to the corners of his eyes.
Realizing the place was inappropriate, Song Qin noted that this storage-room-turned-secret-space hadn’t been cleaned in a long time—and he had never let anyone else know of its existence.
He slid an arm under Shui Que’s butt and carried him out.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said, noticing the Alpha in his arms was struggling with fear. He patted Shui Que’s back in a practiced, comforting manner. “Shui Que… don’t be scared.”
The calm and rational version of him had long vanished. Oxygen-deprived and chaotic, his brain couldn’t even begin to wonder how Shui Que had found this place.
The only thing that remained was the taut string of concern for Shui Que, leading him to comfort the boy mechanically.
“P-put me down.”
Being carried like a child in the study made him feel incredibly embarrassed.
When he was set down on the icy cold tabletop, the chill jolted him from the base of his spine, sending a shiver through his body.
The broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted Alpha completely surrounded him, sniffing him intently like a beast searching for food.
There was nothing at his slender waist. Nothing on his flat abdomen either.
The Alpha’s high nose bridge, sharp brow bones, and gold-rimmed glasses all exuded a cold, ascetic indifference.
He rubbed up inch by inch from below. Compared to the flatness of his empty stomach, there was a slight, barely noticeable rise a little higher up.
Harsh breaths landed on that spot—rounded, flat, with a slight soft peak.
A hint of pale pink showed faintly through the fabric.
The bridge of the nose instinctively nudged against it.
That moment instantly brought back Shui Que’s unpleasant memory from the changing room.
He grabbed Song Qin’s hair, trying to snap him out of it. “Brother!”
The sting at his scalp snapped Song Qin’s unfocused pupils into contraction. He looked up. The fragile Alpha before him, too weak to resist, was gazing at him in sheer panic.
That look pierced Song Qin like a blade.
His chest heaved violently. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and reached into the drawer of the desk, yanking it open. His hand groped around until it found a blister pack of medicine at the bottom.
His hands weren’t steady enough to peel back the foil packaging, so he passed it to Shui Que.
His grip was so tight that the veins on the back of his hand bulged.
“Open it.”
Shui Que’s fingertips trembled as he peeled back the foil. The tablets nearly slipped from his hand.
“How many should I take at once?”
He had six or seven in his palm now.
Song Qin didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned down, his scorching tongue licked from Shui Que’s hand, and before Shui Que could react, he had already swallowed them all.
He didn’t even need water.
Still holding Shui Que, the shirt on his back was soaking wet—like he’d just been pulled out of a river.
“Do what I did before,” Song Qin rasped. He cupped Shui Que’s face with both hands. “Release your pheromones, Shui Que. I need your pheromones.”
Normally, Omega pheromones did help ease an Alpha’s susceptibility period.
Maybe his pseudo-Omega pheromones could have the same effect.
After all, the scent didn’t seem any different.
That was what Shui Que thought.
The strong scent of gardenia masked the oolong base note, which could barely be detected unless one paid close attention.
The Alpha pressed against him finally quieted, though his breathing remained heavy.
＊
They weren’t even real brothers—they didn’t share a single drop of blood—yet now Shui Que was starting to suspect he and Song Qin had somehow been born conjoined.
Except for sleeping at night and walking the dog, Song Qin was glued to him constantly! His gaze never left Shui Que’s body!
He was going to melt under that burning stare.
Shui Que nervously endured being clung to by Song Qin for over half the day. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from the treatment sessions before—except their roles were now reversed.
This time, he was the one releasing pheromones to soothe Song Qin during his susceptibility period.
Originally, he wouldn’t have thought anything of it.
He was simply doing for Song Qin what Song Qin had once done for him. It was logical. Normal. That’s definitely how Shui Que would’ve interpreted it—if he hadn’t discovered all those secretly stashed photos of himself in the storage room, hidden away by his stern, rule-abiding brother.
Song Qin even asked if he wanted him to sleep holding him that night.
Shui Que had been sleeping alone in his own room since he was five—of course he said no.
He also finally understood why Song Qin had looked so disheveled when he came home yesterday morning.
Coalball was a large dog in its prime, full of boundless energy.
With Song Qin’s crutch, there was no way he could keep up. The moment the leash slipped even a little, the dog would vanish in a blink.
He could only walk the German Shepherd slowly, trying to burn off its daily energy with long walks—counting on time alone to do the trick.
Song Qin would be out walking the dog all morning. Even then, he still wouldn’t let Shui Que go out for walks, nor would he let York run around the mountains with the leash in its mouth.
“He can walk him, but I can’t?” Shui Que had never heard Song Qin speak in that tone before—petty, sour, and sharp-edged.
Who was “he” referring to?
Xie Xiangxun?
Shui Que couldn’t understand what Song Qin was being so stubborn about. The Alpha in his susceptibility period had completely lost his usual calm and self-restraint, getting stuck on the most ridiculous things.
And to top it off, Coalball didn’t even like Song Qin much. It only wanted Shui Que to hold the leash.
When Song Qin tried walking it yesterday, the dog deliberately dashed into tight corners and hidden spots, giving him a real hard time.
One man and one dog glared at each other in mutual annoyance—their emotional bond was difficult to forge.
So that morning, as soon as it woke up, Coalball took the initiative to leave the courtyard, heading upstairs to sit obediently on the carpet in front of Shui Que’s bedroom door. It waited eagerly for Shui Que to wake up, hoping he would take it out for a walk.
Song Qin had just taken his suppressant, but his mood remained unstable. He approached with a dark expression and said, “Coalball, go play outside.”
York had sharp senses and could pick up on many specific verbal commands. Normally, whenever Shui Que said “go play outside,” the dog would understand it was time for its daily walk.
It would then lower its front body, wagging its tail excitedly, waiting for Shui Que to clip one end of the leash to its collar.
The collar had a pure silver name tag attached. Originally, it was engraved with just “York,” but Xie Xiangxun had recently replaced it. Now, the front side read “Coalball,” and the back still said “York,” highlighting that this dog belonged to someone.
“York,” Song Qin called when he saw the dog remain still. He switched to the English name even though he disliked using the foreign name given by Xie Xiangxun. Still, he repeated it stubbornly, slowing his speech to ensure the German Shepherd could hear him clearly. “Go play outside.”
The German Shepherd gave him a dismissive sideways glance, then stretched in place. Its streamlined muscles tensed and relaxed under the golden light, its sleek fur shimmering like waves. The dog possessed a physique considered ideal among its kind—thanks both to Xie Xiangxun’s dedicated daily walks and York’s own love for exercise.
But this time, it showed zero interest in “going out to play.”
After stretching, it lay down at the door again. Its ears drooped, and it ignored Song Qin’s commands entirely.
It was as annoyingly arrogant as its previous owner.
Song Qin thought this with an emotionless face.
The suppressant was clearly about to take effect, but this round of heat might’ve been triggered by his last episode not following a regular cycle. Now it overlapped with the current one. Plus, he hadn’t seen Shui Que for an entire night, and the gnawing anxiety made even the brief wait for the medicine to work unbearable.
Ever since Shui Que discovered those photos yesterday, he had been convinced Song Qin was some kind of pervert who sneaked into his brother’s room every night to secretly take pictures of him sleeping. He had repeatedly forbidden Song Qin from entering his room again, even barricading the door with a chair.
In truth, Shui Que had wrongly accused Song Qin.
Usually, Song Qin only checked on him every other night, quietly coming in to see if he was sleeping well or had kicked off his blanket.
There were many reasons for the delay—mainly work. He often had mountains of paperwork to deal with and countless meetings to attend.
Maybe Shui Que had been scared yesterday and went to sleep late, so by his usual wake-up time, he still hadn’t gotten up.
Song Qin neurotically kept lifting his wrist to check the time.
The German Shepherd lay on the floor, while the tall Alpha stood straight by the door. Man and dog stood guard, motionless.
After a while, perhaps due to its keen hearing, York sensed movement inside the room. It suddenly rose to its feet, tail finally beginning to wag, and started anxiously pawing at the gap beneath the door.
It let out a low, whimpering sound.
The room’s heater hadn’t been set very high, but even so, Song Qin’s back was already damp with sweat, soaking through his shirt.
He’d had an inhibitor injection the previous night, but it hadn’t helped.
Even the oral suppressants he’d relied on for so long weren’t working, despite increasing the dosage that morning.
He’d have to call Wei Qing to come replace his meds tonight.
A soft click came from the other side of the door—it turned and opened.
Shui Que came out, hair tousled, his cowlick sticking up. He thought only York had been scratching at the door and bent down to pat its head.
Still half-asleep, he blinked—and suddenly, the German Shepherd in his vision receded.
That familiar sensation returned.
His feet left the ground.
Caught off guard, Shui Que found himself face to face with the Alpha who had picked him up. “Good morning… brother.”
Though he had to admit that the photos he’d discovered yesterday had given him a huge scare—maybe because Song Qin had no other siblings, he cherished his only brother a bit too much, to the point of crossing the line of normal familial affection.
But Shui Que still believed that Song Qin wouldn’t hurt him.
Although, judging by that final photo from yesterday, it wasn’t certain Song Qin wouldn’t hurt someone else for his sake.
The thought still sent chills down Shui Que’s spine.
If the villa’s signal blocker weren’t still active, he really would’ve liked to forward Song Qin a hundred educational videos on how siblings in two-child families should normally interact.
York, who had been expecting a pat on the head, had already closed its eyes in blissful anticipation. But after waiting a long while with no touch, it opened its eyes in confusion and frustration, then bit at Song Qin’s pants in protest.
But Song Qin slipped into the room and shut the door behind him.
York spun in circles, whining at the door and pawing at it nonstop, probably thinking its owner had been kidnapped by a bad guy.
Considering how smart the dog was, Song Qin locked the door with one hand just in case it figured out how to open the handle.
“Don’t do that. Meiqiu’s going to get angry.”
Shui Que said, struggling in his arms. But he couldn’t break free. Despite Song Qin’s leg injury, his consistent swimming since childhood gave him strong upper body strength—something not easy to overcome.
And so, Shui Que was carried into the bathroom.
The sink was in the middle, with the toilet on the left and a glass-enclosed shower and bathtub on the right—a clear dry-wet separation design.
Song Qin set him down in front of the sink. The mirror reflected both of them.
His somber wooden cane was easily set aside. One large hand reached around Shui Que’s waist to brace against the counter. Veins twisted along the back of his hand. His chest, broad like a wall, left Shui Que nowhere to retreat. With just his body, he had confined Shui Que into a small, inescapable space.
Whatever condition Song Qin had during his heat period, it was as if he suffered from touch-starvation syndrome. Without Shui Que nearby, he became like a stranded fish—desperate, as if he couldn’t survive another second.
They were already standing close, and yet Song Qin insisted on squeezing even closer.
Shui Que could barely squeeze toothpaste out. Frustrated, he set his toothbrush down, unwilling to indulge Song Qin. He elbowed the Alpha’s firm waist and muttered, “Brother, could you step back a little?”
Song Qin ignored him, still wrapping around him while picking up Shui Que’s toothbrush and squeezing out toothpaste.
“Ah,” he said, like coaxing a sulking toddler, telling Shui Que to open his mouth.
Shui Que’s eyes went wide like a startled cat. He immediately pushed away the toothbrush that had just been loaded with toothpaste.
Was Song Qin really about to brush his teeth for him?
He wasn’t two years old…
But the hand came back again.
Shui Que turned his head. “No.”
Song Qin furrowed his brows but still asked with patience, “Why don’t you want to brush your teeth? If you don’t, your breath will smell bad.”
Shui Que was someone who cared deeply about cleanliness. He brushed after every meal—three times a day at home.
He just didn’t want Song Qin to brush them for him.
Inside his slippers, his toes curled up in embarrassment.
“I can do it myself. It won’t smell,” Shui Que muttered, pursing his lips and trying to pry the toothbrush from Song Qin’s hand.
But Song Qin lowered his head. Shui Que could see clearly in the mirror—he leaned close to Shui Que’s cheek, and sniffed beside his lips. Then he said with satisfaction, “Mm. Smells nice.”
What the hell was he doing?
Half of Shui Que’s body went stiff.
Something about Song Qin just didn’t feel right. Like yesterday, when he kept sniffing him. But Shui Que could only chalk it up to a neurotic Alpha going through heat.
Then, catching him off guard, Song Qin pinched his cheeks, forcing his mouth open.
The light citrus-mint foam spread across Shui Que’s white teeth.
His heart went numb.
And it didn’t stop there—a rinsing cup was brought to his mouth.
Shui Que followed the commands passively—
“Open your mouth.”
“Spit.”
A warm, damp towel wiped his face clean.
After the entire routine, Song Qin’s mood seemed to have improved significantly.
Seeing his emotions stabilize, Shui Que cautiously asked, “Brother… did you turn on the signal blocker?”
Song Qin froze.
Shui Que timidly tested the waters in a soft, cautious voice: “Can you turn it off? I can’t even go online anymore.”
“The internet isn’t safe. There’s been a lot of telecom scams lately,” Song Qin replied flatly.
Realizing that Song Qin wasn’t buying his act, Shui Que stopped pretending altogether and asked directly, “Is someone badmouthing me online?”
He had seen the photos Song Qin had developed yesterday. The man had clearly started investigating him right after Shui Que accidentally sent those pictures via WeChat. He had even gone as far as looking into his livestreaming activities.
Had he exposed himself so early on?
Shui Que didn’t get it.
The netizens hadn’t really made a fuss about him pretending to be an Omega, but Song Qin was the kind of person who always valued reason and principles. How could someone like him tolerate a member of the Song family livestreaming for money under false pretenses?
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Song Qin, thinking of the scathing exposé post trending online, narrowed his eyes, filled with restrained fury. “He’s the one distorting the truth and slandering you. They don’t know who you are. I’ll take care of it.”
“…”
Shui Que fell silent.
This was ridiculous.
He never thought Song Qin would be this biased toward family, ignoring right and wrong to this extent…
York was still outside the door, whining miserably with a whimpering voice, sounding absolutely heartbroken.
Shui Que couldn’t bear it any longer, and besides, he did want to go out. “Can I take Coalball for a walk today?”
“No.”
Song Qin rejected him firmly.
“It’s dangerous outside.”
“I’ll just walk around near the villa.” Shui Que half-closed his eyes as he let Song Qin apply a moisturizing cream suitable for winter on his face. He looked very obedient.
His face was so fair and tender that it made the cream seem pale in comparison. Song Qin could easily cover it with just one hand.
The restlessness from his susceptibility period gradually eased with this simple act, but Song Qin remained unmoved.
“No.”
“Do you even know what they’re saying about you online?” Closing the lid of the face cream jar, Song Qin’s large hand slowly moved downward, landing on Shui Que’s waist. “They’re saying—”
“They’ve never seen an Alpha like you. That even if a dominant Alpha forces someone, at most he’ll only be sentenced to three years, maybe even just a few months before getting out.”
He lifted the hem of Shui Que’s shirt, and his cream-slicked palm—no longer rough—rested warmly against Shui Que’s abdomen. His fingers kneaded the soft flesh gently and intimately.
Despite the excessive intimacy of his touch, the mirror reflected a serious face with gold-rimmed glasses perched neatly on his nose.
“They say those Alphas are beasts in fine clothes, clean and proper by day but completely repressed. Once they set their eyes on you, they’ll wait for the right moment to kidnap you.”
As he spoke, his brows furrowed deeply, his whole face shrouded in cold frost.
“They’ll be extremely cruel—holding you from behind, violating you until your toes barely touch the floor.”
Those kinds of maniacs wouldn’t hesitate to lick clean even the water sliding down the back of a weak Alpha’s feet.
They would defile Shui Que.
Song Qin would never allow such a thing to happen.
As long as—
As long as he hid Shui Que away…
So no one else could see him, then everything would be fine.
Shui Que was shaken by what he said. “R-Really?”
That sounded terrible…
Even scarier than Xie Xiangxun…
“Mm.” Song Qin removed his hand and gently placed it on Shui Que’s shoulder. His voice brushed past his ear, soft and low. “Just don’t go out for now, okay?”
“Brother would worry,” he added.
Shui Que’s lashes drooped, half-shadowing his eyes. After some hesitation, he finally nodded, “Okay…”
After washing up, he gave Song Qin a little push.
“Get out.”
“What’s wrong?” Song Qin thought he was still worried about York. “He doesn’t want to go out with me. I’ll ask Uncle Chen to take him for a walk.”
“No.”
Shui Que denied it.
Why did he have to spell everything out?
Was his hint really that hard to understand?
His voice grew smaller and smaller, “I need to use the bathroom, so you need to leave.”
“Do you need help?”
Just like when he helped brush his teeth earlier, Song Qin reached for the waistband of his pants like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Shui Que had woken up and immediately opened the door for York. He hadn’t even changed out of his pajamas yet. His sleep pants were made of soft fabric and designed to be loose and saggy.
A light tug almost let Song Qin help for real.
Luckily, he reacted quickly and grabbed the waistband in time.
His voice trembled with panic. “C-Can you act normal?!”
Tears welled up in his kitten-like eyes as he cried out, “Brother, let’s ask Uncle Wei Qing to change your medication right now!”
Sometimes, facing a susceptible Alpha just felt overwhelmingly helpless.
Huge shoutout to @candycorns2 on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.