L*st and Death

Anna returned to the motel in Umberin early that morning. It was the same place that had left her with a subtle sense of unease—the one where the female owner had looked at her, a police officer, with thinly veiled displeasure.

“I’ll be conducting surveillance in the parking lot.”

The motel owner clearly didn’t like being informed of Anna’s plan, but with no real grounds to refuse, she reluctantly agreed. She had no intention of being helpful, but truthfully, she too had been growing curious about the room where moaning had echoed for the past four days.

Anna parked her car in a shaded corner beside the front desk and began a blind stakeout. Hours passed as she battled the blistering heat—and finally, her target appeared.

Lewis, shirtless, was carrying Siron—wrapped like a princess in a bath towel—tenderly in his arms.

The wave of rage and stunned disbelief that hit her in that moment was indescribable.

“Anna? Wh—how did you know I was here?”

“Shut the hell up and get inside!”

Like a thunderbolt, Anna charged forward, shoving the dumbly grinning Lewis back into the room.

She regretted it the moment she stepped inside.

The room looked like a battlefield. Takeout boxes, electrolyte drinks, water bottles, overflowing trash cans stuffed with tissues—it was filthy beyond words. The air, thick with the stench of sex, felt suffocating. Her stomach churned when she saw the white stains soaked into the bedding.

It was like her optic nerve had been corroded by acid.

“Goddamn it. This is disgusting.”

Lewis adjusted his hold on Siron, clutching him more securely, and forced a sheepish smile.

“Yeah... kinda gross, huh? Should we move to the room next door?”

“Next door?”

“I booked the room next to this one too. Was just about to head there for a shower anyway.”

Only then did Anna understand why Siron had been so strangely bundled up in a towel. There were plenty of reasons to be furious, but before blowing up, she needed to confirm a few things.

“Why isn’t he waking up? ...He’s not dead, right?”

“Dead? Siron? Haha, no way. Just asleep—really deep sleep. Should I wake him?”

“Don’t bother.”

She wanted to punch that awkwardly smiling face of his. Fixing Lewis with a glare that radiated cold fury, she asked:

“Where’s the car.”

“Parked a bit away. In the shopping complex lot.”

“Because you were afraid I’d find it?”

Lewis hunched his massive frame like a guilty child.

“...Yeah.”

“You were in rut, and you still had the sense to think of that?”

“Maybe it was the suppressant. I didn’t completely lose control.”

“Oh, so you were somewhat lucid? That’s it? Nothing else you want to say?”

Anna’s gaze suddenly sharpened, turning glacial. Lewis saw his sister’s cold expression and felt something sink deep inside his chest. He couldn’t speak for a moment. Then he drew a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.

“...I’m sorry. For leaving you behind.”

“Your brain must’ve been completely flooded with sex. Like you gave zero fucks whether Anna McCarthy lived or died in the middle of the road.”

“...Don’t say shit like that. Anna McCarthy never dies. But if you’re talking about my brain being filled with nothing but sex... I can’t deny it.”

Lewis hesitated, then carefully asked:

“How did you get home?”

“Hitchhiked.”

Recalling that humiliating day, Anna grabbed a wet towel off the floor and flung it at Lewis’s face.

“Get your damn face out of my sight.”

She gathered her abandoned bag from the floor and the room key from the table, then left the dim, foul-smelling room. There were three keys in total. Three. Just how earth-shattering did their sex need to be to rent three separate rooms?

If he’d had the rationality to steal a wallet and drive off to some distant place, didn’t that mean he could’ve restrained his sexual urges, too?

Lewis, nine years younger than Anna, had always viewed her like a careless but dependable parent figure—and like a parent forgiving a child, he’d come to expect unconditional leniency from her.

But Anna and Lewis weren’t the kind of siblings who could talk casually about sex. To each other, they were supposed to be non-sexual beings. A normal family.

Each time Lewis’s recent behavior broke down that psychological boundary between them, Anna felt a violent repulsion—an unnameable discomfort.

Did I make a mistake turning you into an alpha?

Somewhere between hope and disappointment, relief and regret, Anna slipped into the room next door. The bed had been stripped completely bare—only a waterproof mattress cover remained. Judging by the lack of sheets, they had probably used new blankets every time things got messy.

Anna sat down and stared at the ivory-painted wall, a dull weight pressing down on her. The paint had peeled in spots, revealing the poorly maintained surface beneath. The thin walls allowed sounds from the next room to bleed through—muffled voices, the hiss of a shower, the occasional moan.

Lewis and Siron had entered the cramped bathroom together. Naturally.

A long while later, they returned to the room where Anna was waiting. Whether it was the hot water or something else, their freshly showered skin had a pink flush to it.

“Bebe, want to sit on the bed? Or the chair?”

Siron answered in a voice so hoarse it barely registered.

“...Chair.”

“Wait, I’ll put down a towel.”

“Haa... Lewis. Give it a rest.”

Lewis quickly grabbed a towel from the bathroom and laid it across the chair, then gently guided Siron by the shoulder and waist to sit down. There was a faintly erotic air between them. Even without having seen the condition of their original room, it was clear enough what had gone on these past four days.

“For real, knock it off. Stop touching me.”

Sensing Anna’s gaze, Siron whispered into Lewis’s ear and shoved away the hand still lingering at his side.

“Still... if you’re in pain, just say so. I’ll help.”

“I said I’m fine, Lewis.”

Siron refused Lewis’s help. Before sitting, he paused, inhaled deeply, gripped the armrests with both hands, then slowly—very slowly—lowered himself into the chair and adjusted his position.

A long silence followed. Words had dried up like a desert spring. No one had the courage to speak first.

At last, Anna opened her mouth.

“Yoon Siron.”

“...Yes?”

“Anything you want to report—the sexual abuse that happened these last few days, or the previous attempted rape. Tell me everything. I’m not a great cop, but I’ll make sure you’re protected, and that justice is done.”

“What? Oh—no, that’s...”

Startled, Siron waved his hands in protest and looked up at Lewis, panicked. The man who had looked like the happiest person in the world only moments ago now lowered his head with a crushed expression.

“Anna... I can explain—”

“Don’t even start with that ‘diminished responsibility’ bullshit. You deliberately, methodically exploited Yoon Siron.”

Before he could finish, Anna cut him off, shouting with accusation, pointing straight at him.

“Lewis, I’m begging you. I’m sick of cleaning up your messes. I can’t do this forever. Go hang around with the rest of the rapist scumbags rotting in jail!”

Siron, who had remained quiet, spoke up at last with an uncomfortable expression.

“I don’t want to take his side... but we already settled this.”

“What?”

“If Lewis is publicly revealed as an alpha during an investigation, we could all be in danger. Just like Baekgyeong’s mother was. And more than anything... I didn’t say no.”

Blushing, Siron moved his lips as if trying to form the words, then finally whispered:

“...Because.”

He covered his face with both hands and muttered:

“It was the best sex of my life.”

Lewis blinked in disbelief. But then his face lit up—overwhelmed by joy and triumph. He shot to his feet and, puffing with pride, made twin pistols with his hands and pointed them at Anna.

“Ha! You heard that?”

Anna stared at him in silence for several seconds. Then she suddenly slapped a hand over her mouth and sprang up from her seat.

“Ugh. I think I’m gonna be sick. I need air. Now.”

While Anna stood blankly in the scorching parking lot, stunned and bleary-eyed, Lewis paid the motel owner extra for cleanup. Then he carefully helped Siron outside.

Lewis supported Siron—whose whole body creaked like a car crash victim—and guided him into Anna’s car. He took the driver’s seat and headed for where his own vehicle was parked.

It was a shopping complex, barely five minutes away. Lewis’s white SUV sat in the lot, plastered with parking violation stickers—so many that one completely covered the passenger-side window. And yet, Lewis didn’t show the slightest hint of irritation.

The three of them entered a home-style restaurant in the complex. The seats were divided by partitions, each booth with fixed sofas on both sides, giving the place a cozy atmosphere.

Lewis took the inside seat and guided Siron to sit by the outer edge like he was handling a delicate glass sculpture.

Anna, seated across from them, sipped her drink through a straw and studied them. While she and Siron remained silent for their own reasons, Lewis sat there beaming, entirely oblivious.

“Lewis, stop smiling. You look ridiculous.”

“Sorry. I just can’t stop.”

Lewis tried to stifle his grin by pressing his lips together, but the corners of his mouth kept twitching. He cleared his throat—once, twice—and tried to force a serious expression, but failed every time.

Siron, on the other hand, looked like someone who’d skipped meals and lost sleep for days. Which was probably true. Anna could understand his exhaustion just by looking at him.

“You feeling okay?”

Siron took a deep breath, exhaled heavily, and replied:

“...I’ll live.”

“How’d you even end up tangled with Lewis in the first place?”

“...I think alpha pheromones cause arousal.”

Anna’s brow furrowed, a wrinkle forming across her forehead. After a pause to organize her thoughts, she asked:

“So if an alpha releases pheromones deliberately... you just get aroused automatically?”

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