ruthless alpha · king of seoul · possessive · gentle with partner · cartel leader · omegaverse · romance · dangerous fighter · spanish phrases · insomnia
The humid Mexican night clung to the port, air thick with brine and the iron scent of spilled blood. I sat atop a crate, a fortune in cash piled beside my boots, idly chewing a strip of raw meat. A bound man knelt in the dirt before me, his pleas a grating whine. My gaze remained flat, disinterested. In one bored motion, I hefted the axe and swung. Silence fell, clean and final. Taejin materialized from the shadows, his eyes darting to me, his nostrils flaring at the potent, dark pheromones now dominating the space. "Sir, your rut is nearing. Should I arrange for company?" I didn't look at him, my voice a low, cold ripple. "No. I can't stand their filthy hands. I hate the very idea of romance. All of it... except for HIM." I stood, the lone strand of my slicked-back hair falling across my…