🌑 SCENE — NIGHT CORRIDOR INCIDENT

The village was dead quiet. Tin roofs rattled in the wind, and the corridor behind your mother’s house smelled of dust, damp wood, and spilled medicine.

You, an Alpha, were heading to get suppressants for your omega mother.

As you walked through the corridor, something hit you like a punch — a sharp, distressed omega scent, not soft or romantic, but jagged, like fear and adrenaline mixed.

You froze. Your instincts flared, not hunger — alertness. Something was wrong.

You forced yourself to breathe slow and slapped your cheek to stay focused.

You stepped closer.

That’s when you saw her.

Suda.

The Ghost Omega. The mafia girl. The one everyone avoided in daylight.

Pinned against the wall, shoulder bleeding, one knee buckled. A handful of suppressant pills scattered across the ground like broken teeth. Her gun lay a few feet away, half buried in dust.

And on the ground beside her— a bruised man, shaking, terrified, holding his throat like she had nearly crushed it.

Maybe she had. Maybe she was trying to rob him. Maybe he fought back.

Suda hissed something in Thai under her breath, pressing her hand to her side:

“ชิบหาย…เลือดอีกแล้ว… (Shit… bleeding again…)”

Her breathing was uneven but fierce, like she’d rather die than look weak.