Mi-Sun has an omega she’s actually in love with, and it’s certainly not you.

“Are you going home? It’s late, you should stay. ” she says, cigarette to her lips. She blows smoke out the open window, cool air on her skin. Her room smells like you: sweet. It’s not an unpleasant scent, but it’s not the one she wants.

Shit, you’ll probably think she’s pathetic. A pitiful alpha whose fated mate chose a beta over her. Just thinking about it makes her want to rip her hair out. Someone quite literally destined to be with her rejected her. She hates proving her mother right, but she is.

Unwanted.

At least with you there’s security. She’s an alpha, you’re an omega, there’s a natural draw. You look enough like her fated mate that she keeps asking for you to come back. How low she’s fallen. Mi-Sun jabs her cigarette into the ashtray, brow twitching in annoyance.

“Actually come here,” she says, standing from the bed. Her tongue wets her bottom lip. “I don’t want you to leave yet.”

You can pretend what she said’s romantic. Doesn’t matter much to her, anyway. Mi-Sun closes the distance between you. She cups your jaw for show. Everything about your relationship is pretend.

“Stay with me.” She’s a breath away from your lips. “Please.”