L*st and Death

Lewis stared blankly at the woman in stunned silence, overwhelmed by the intensity of the scent invading his nose. It was so strong, it made it hard to think.

“Welcome, Hybris member. I’ll escort you safely to the destination in this vehicle.”

She greeted him with a wide smile, her large lips parting to reveal all her teeth. That overly open demeanor only made Lewis more tense. She was wearing a miniskirt, legs elegantly crossed, and the skirt had ridden up enough to reveal a glimpse of her underwear.

“Uh—”

Startled, Lewis instinctively took a step back, his face flushing red. He quickly glanced around. What if Siron saw this and got the wrong idea? That worry flickered through his head—then he remembered he was wearing sunglasses.

Ahem. Hm. Clearing his throat for no reason, Lewis brushed the back of his neck and glanced back once more.

‘He’s following behind... right?’

He was worried, but he couldn’t exactly call Siron to check. As Lewis hesitated to get into the van, the agent gazed at him with a sultry, inviting expression and prompted him.

“Sir?”

A mysterious bombshell drenched in pheromones, waiting for a young alpha. Lewis, who believed Siron was the only omega in existence, felt his thoughts splinter. The suggestiveness in the woman’s every gesture made him deeply uncomfortable. He scanned the interior of the van with sharp suspicion.

In the front seats of the black Lincoln 9-seater, two sturdy beta men—about Lewis’s size—sat in the driver and passenger seats. The blonde woman alone occupied the spacious back. The rear seating had been remodeled limousine-style, with an L-shaped bench curving along the walls, and across from it was a sleek, built-in bar table.

Being greeted in such luxury felt excessive—almost suspiciously so. And the scent coming off her was unbearable. Like alcohol, it made his breathing quicken, his pulse pound, and his stress spike.

He didn’t want to ride with her. But Lewis had no justifiable reason to refuse, so he reluctantly climbed in. The door shut as soon as he got in, and the van started moving immediately.

“Where are we going?”

The woman, now seated beside him, answered calmly:

“To Hybris’s Baggers City chapter. Once we arrive, I’ll provide you with your onboarding guide to the community. But... how long are you planning to keep holding that?”

“Oh, this?”

She smiled and playfully reached out, lightly °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° tapping Lewis’s arm.

“Hand it over. I’d love a drink.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Lewis placed the orange juice on the bar table. The woman opened a compartment, pulled out two tall glasses, dropped in a few ice cubes, and poured the juice evenly between them. She picked up one glass, slowly brought it to her lips, and closed her eyes briefly as she savored the fresh citrus flavor.

“Please, drink.”

Lewis stared at the glass she’d poured and calmly picked it up—only to dump all the juice into the ice bucket.

Then, picking up a new glass, he poured fresh juice to the halfway mark.

“You never know what might be on that one. I’ll drink from this instead.”

But even then, Lewis didn’t take a sip. A flicker of something passed through the woman’s eyes, and she chided him lightly.

“So suspicious for no reason.”

Lewis shrugged with indifference. The woman leaned toward him slightly. Every time she moved, a thick, cloying fragrance spread through the sealed cabin. Had he not taken a suppressant, his body might have reacted. He could feel his central nervous system being subtly stimulated.

Is this a good thing...?

If there were more omegas in the world, just like there were alphas, then Siron wouldn’t be constantly hunted. Which also meant—Siron wasn’t his only salvation. Just thinking that made Lewis feel like he’d committed some kind of treason.

He asked the woman:

“Your pheromones?”

“That’s right.”

Lewis asked the kind of question someone unaware of omega biology might.

“How does an alpha emit pheromones like this?”

She smiled with cryptic amusement and replied:

“Because I’m not an alpha.”

“Then what are you?”

Dodging the question, she countered with her own.

“How do they feel to you? People say I smell... sexy. Do I?”

She smelled like a blooming rose. So dense and concentrated it was suffocating. It was certainly alluring—but to Lewis, it was too much.

He wished he could breathe fresh air, but the rear windows didn’t open. Resigned, he reached for the orange juice. Chugging it in one go, he finally felt like his head was clearing, that his senses had reset. But the freshness didn’t last. Whether it was the pheromones or something else, his body suddenly felt as heavy as a hangover.

“The scent... it’s too strong.”

Lewis struggled to speak, wiping juice from the corner of his mouth.

“It’s dizzying... overwhelming.”

“Oh dear. Drooling like a baby—what’s that about?”

She laughed as she gently dabbed the drool from Lewis’s lower lip with a tissue.

Startled, Lewis quickly tried to cover his mouth—but oddly, his skin felt numb. He hadn’t even realized he’d been drooling. It was like his sense of touch had dulled completely. When he tried to reach up and touch his face, even that small motion felt difficult.

Only then did Lewis realize—

His mind and body were being paralyzed.

“Just rest a little. You’ll be meeting your mentor soon.”

Her voice grew fainter and more distant. Lewis’s vision blurred, his mind sank into a thick fog, and as sensation drained from his limbs, so too did his consciousness.

✦✦✦

Dylan Brown was a boy with a strange, shadowy presence. He loved classic horror films and collecting oddly shaped creatures, often sketching monsters and aliens on scrap paper. His family, by contrast, was active and extroverted. On weekends, they hiked, hosted loud parties, and thrived in social noise. Dylan was always the island apart.

When his father and older brothers went to the family’s private hunting lodge to taxidermy deer antlers, Dylan was at home building monsters from fish bones and amphibian skeletons. While his brothers excelled in golf, tennis, equestrian sports, and yacht racing, Dylan’s world expanded not in real life but on paper and canvas. His creations were dark, bizarre, sometimes beautiful in their grotesque hybridity.

His sensitivity was not understood—by his peers or his family. Forced by his parents to attend a summer camp, he remained a lonely, isolated presence. Some cruel boys took joy in bullying him.

One afternoon during an outdoor camping program near the lake, the boys forced Dylan to swallow an unidentifiable insect. It was a sadistic prank—but it ended up nearly killing him.

The insect scratched the roof of his mouth during swallowing, allowing bacteria to enter his bloodstream. It triggered a severe inflammation and ultimately led to bacterial meningitis, with the infection reaching his brain. Despite intense pain and a high fever, Dylan, desperate not to draw attention, locked himself in his cabin and endured it alone—until he collapsed.

Unfortunately, there was no proper hospital in the area where the camp was held.

The infection left Dylan with permanent neurological damage. His muscle control weakened, and he eventually needed special orthopedic shoes just to walk.

His physical limitations isolated him even more—from both family and school. But he wasn’t lonely. His world shifted from the physical to the virtual. He found comfort in comments on his blog posts and creature sketches.

At fifteen, Dylan was enrolled in the elite all-boys prep school that his father and brothers had attended. The school prided itself on academic excellence and physical rigor. Dylan, unsurprisingly, couldn’t adapt. His condition made most physical activity impossible, and he fell behind in academics as well.

His isolation worsened, making him more vulnerable—and his online activity began taking on darker, more extreme tones. Racist posts he made on his blog caused massive backlash and severely damaged his father Richard Brown’s political career. The scandal placed enormous pressure on the family and made Dylan’s life at school unbearable. Eventually, his spiral into drug use led to his expulsion.

Back home, crushed by his circumstances, Dylan became further addicted. A friend he met in rehab gave him a substance that caused acute neural damage, severely impairing his brain function. He lost nearly everything—hope, health, a future. His life should have ended there—or so it seemed.

But then, something unexpected happened.

His father, Richard Brown, launched a campaign for mayor of Baggers City—and suddenly, everything changed. Someone at New Life Clinic dug up a secret with the potential to destroy Richard’s political future. In the end, Dylan received an experimental neuro-regenerative procedure at New Life Clinic.

And from that moment on—everything about Dylan’s life changed.

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