After Being Coaxed And Seduced By A Yandere Omega Heartthrob - Chapter 2

Yalos was very tall. Song Zhao guessed that was the result of “differentiation.”

This world was slightly different from the one Song Zhao had originally lived in. Women and men only differed in sexual characteristics; aside from hereditary factors, all other physical traits were determined by secondary gender.

Humans usually underwent their initial differentiation between the ages of fifteen and seventeen. According to the Ilota Daily, the average height of young Alphas was around 182 centimeters.

And the eldest daughter of Duke Winters standing before Song Zhao—Miss Yalos, who was extremely likely to inherit the title in the future—was a textbook S-rank Alpha.

Tall, long-legged, beautifully proportioned, and strikingly attractive. Her height only made that condescending, all-seeing gaze of hers seem even more natural.

Her pale golden hair was smoother than satin, the ends curling slightly as they fell softly to her chest.

Perhaps because the chase earlier had been somewhat intense, a strand of her loose golden hair had accidentally caught on the family crest symbolizing the Winters household.

Song Zhao lifted her chin slightly, practically craning her neck just so she could meet Yalos’s eyes. Some of this country’s rules really made life difficult—who exactly had decided that maintaining constant eye contact was what counted as “polite”?

Wasn’t that way too intimate?

Well, no matter how intimate it was, it still couldn’t compare to how intimate she and Sylvia looked right now.

The skin exposed to the air felt something damp touch it. Apparently, Miss Heroine had turned her into a hand towel, accidentally rubbing tears onto her while quietly sobbing.

A light rose fragrance seemed to surround Song Zhao completely. It smelled like the perfume Sylvia usually wore—very sweet, but not cloying, like lying down in a vivid flower bed in the middle of a flourishing spring.

Her thoughts were running wildly in every direction, but Song Zhao knew that was a sign she was getting nervous. Her brain was trying to relieve her anxiety by letting her imagination race all over the place.

She instinctively wanted to hold Sylvia’s trembling hand where it was wrapped around her waist, but after catching Yalos’s smiling-without-smiling gaze, she obediently withdrew her hand.

Her right thumb curled into her palm. Sure enough, she felt a thin layer of clammy sweat inside her clenched fist.

She kept her gaze fixed on Yalos’s face, lightly flushed from alcohol. Her long, narrow phoenix eyes were half-lowered, and those deep-sea-blue irises looked as though they wanted to swallow this meddlesome, utterly tactless maid whole.

Song Zhao put on an innocent expression without the slightest guilt, as though she truly hadn’t heard anything that had happened inside the room.

After a long while, she heard Yalos speak in a tone that was almost amused.

“Mother is looking for me?”

“Yes, Miss Yalos.” Song Zhao blinked, her gaze clear and her expression flawless. “I heard Miss Russell is very curious about you.”

That young lady from the Russell family had nearly become Yalos’s fiancée in the original novel.

Song Zhao wasn’t entirely lying.

According to the plot, at this very moment, the duchess really was discussing a possible marriage alliance with the Russell family and had sent a servant to fetch Yalos, only no one could find her anywhere.

After all, no one had expected Yalos to be in her own younger sister’s room right now, only appearing later looking perfectly composed once she was satisfied.

All Song Zhao had done was move the plot forward a little.

Yalos stared steadily into her eyes, seemingly trying to detect some trace of a lie fabricated to “rescue” her mistress. That way, she could expose this irritating nuisance on the spot.

After all, being glib and deceitful was hardly a good habit for a servant.

Unfortunately for her, she found nothing.

Before Yalos even left, Song Zhao respectfully asked whether she should contact the kitchen and have them prepare some hangover soup.

Yalos straightened her collar and adjusted the family crest on her chest.

The Alpha’s face returned to the gentle, refined smile Song Zhao was familiar with—though this one was directed at Sylvia.

“I’ll leave for now. I’ll come see you again once I’m done.”

“My dear little sister.”

The lingering, suggestive way she enunciated those words sounded threatening in Sylvia’s ears.

Song Zhao distinctly felt the arm across her waist tighten, as though Sylvia were searching for something to steady herself against—or trying to draw enough warmth from Song Zhao to stop herself from trembling so badly.

After finishing everything she wanted to say, the elegant lady finally deigned to spare Song Zhao a glance.

Only this time, her mask wasn’t quite in place. Song Zhao caught a trace of lofty arrogance in her eyes.

“Song Zhao? That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You have an excellent memory.” Song Zhao praised her on reflex.

Paired with those bright, clear eyes of hers, even the most casual compliment sounded exceptionally sincere.

Yalos paused for a moment, the words already on her tongue circling back.

“Take good care of the Second Young Lady for me.”

Seeing how obedient and compliant Song Zhao appeared, she probably wasn’t the type to gossip. Any extra “warning” would only seem deliberate.

Sure enough, after receiving the order, the young woman before her obediently lowered her head, asked nothing more, and respectfully answered, “Yes.”

The shadow cast beside Song Zhao’s feet quickly disappeared.

A moment later, the elevator’s notification chime rang through the quiet corridor, crisp as ice striking glass.

Song Zhao looked up and happened to meet Yalos’s gaze dead on.

With a soft click, the elevator doors slid shut from both sides, completely cutting off that final burning stare.

Almost at the exact same moment, Sylvia behind her seemed to have all the strength drained from her body.

Her knees went weak, and she collapsed against Song Zhao, about to fall straight to the floor.

There was no one else around.

This time, Song Zhao didn’t need to worry about appearances. She accurately caught Sylvia’s slender wrist in one hand.

She was burning hot.

Song Zhao’s gaze sharpened. She turned and caught Sylvia’s limp body.

A half-conscious person became surprisingly heavy. Even Song Zhao, who was used to physical labor, could only support Sylvia while letting herself sink naturally to her knees on the carpet.

Her hands instinctively gripped Sylvia’s shoulders firmly to keep her from completely collapsing.

But perhaps Song Zhao was using too much strength, or perhaps Sylvia’s skin was simply too delicate.

Sylvia let out a soft, uncomfortable whimper, and between choked breaths came a pitiful little,

“It hurts.”

Song Zhao immediately loosened her grip.

The consequence was that Sylvia, deprived of her support, fell straight into her arms.

She landed right against Song Zhao’s chest.

Song Zhao gave a muffled grunt, but before she could say anything, Sylvia had already replaced words with actions.

She rubbed her face against Song Zhao in an almost spoiled manner, her red lips moving as she murmured something in broken fragments.

Unfortunately, her voice was too quiet.

Song Zhao truly couldn’t hear her.

Her hand hovered awkwardly in midair, unsure where to put it.

Song Zhao first called Sylvia’s name.

When Sylvia didn’t respond, she finally gathered the courage to gently pull her away.

The sun was already sinking behind the western hills. The expensive crystal chandeliers throughout the Winters manor soon took over the task of illumination, accompanied by the remnants of sunset filtering through the windows.

Only then did Song Zhao finally get a clear look at Sylvia’s upturned face.

Several strands of her silver hair, originally pinned high, had somehow come loose. The hair around her temples was disheveled, yet it only made her exquisite face even more beautiful.

Her features were delicate and light, leaving her with an air of soft innocence no matter the situation. Her lips were tender red, her nose slightly upturned.

Song Zhao’s gaze traveled upward and met a pair of misty blue eyes filled with tears.

It felt as though countless butterflies had suddenly flown out from inside her heart.

They were both blue, but Yalos’s eyes made Song Zhao think of a vast ocean capable of swallowing everything, while Sylvia’s reminded her of blue hour after sunset.

Humans had always longed for the sky, just as they had always feared the sea more deeply.

After all, falling into an ocean with no visible bottom really could suffocate a person to death.

And yet that endless blue, impossibly far above whenever one lifted their head, had become the vessel for countless romantic fantasies.

At this moment, those eyes as beautiful as the sky seemed to softly contain Song Zhao.

She could clearly see her own reflection in them.

Sylvia let out a pained, aggrieved whimper, and her delicately sculpted cheeks gradually flushed crimson.

Hm?

What was going on?

Song Zhao instinctively glanced at Sylvia’s waist, wondering whether young ladies here still had the bad habit of wearing corsets and whether Sylvia had somehow suffocated herself until her face turned this red.

…Apparently not.

Her waist still looked just as slender as usual.

“It’s okay now, Miss Syl.” Song Zhao comforted her, tentatively trying to help her up from the carpet. Her voice was so soft it was practically coaxing. “How about I take you back inside first?”

“Song Zhao, but I don’t feel very well…” Sylvia nervously grabbed Song Zhao’s belt, breathing as rapidly as a fish thrown onto shore.

Her pearly teeth bit hard into her lower lip as she desperately tried to restrain something.

Song Zhao misunderstood completely.

She assumed Sylvia meant she couldn’t walk.

When Song Zhao bent down to gather her into her arms, Sylvia’s burning hand loosely hooked into Song Zhao’s hair.

Her neck tilted upward helplessly like a dying swan.

Eventually, her head drooped, her lips hovering beside the ear where Song Zhao had lost most of her hearing.

“Mmm…”

The deliberately muffled moan was like a flower petal accidentally falling into a pond.

Though the rising ending was light, it still sent circle after circle of ripples across the surface.

Song Zhao’s movement paused for a moment.

But she quickly recovered.

Her left hand settled against the Omega’s back, while the other slipped beneath the girl’s knees with appropriate restraint.

With only a little effort, she lifted Sylvia into her arms.

Another soft whimper sounded beside her ear.

The sensors in the ceiling detected that the level of pheromones in the air had exceeded the limit.

Almost the instant Song Zhao entered the room, the system activated.

From dark nozzles overhead came a fine mist of purification spray, preventing the scent of a top-tier Omega from affecting anyone else in the manor.

By now, Song Zhao knew perfectly well exactly what Sylvia meant when she said she “didn’t feel well.”

Because of her physical condition, the Sylvia of the original novel was extremely susceptible to highly compatible pheromones and could easily enter a false heat.

Feeling the person in her arms squirm more and more restlessly, Song Zhao found herself unusually at a loss.

Logically speaking, in this sort of situation, the ones accompanying the heroine should have been her official love interests.

Not Song Zhao, a hopeless Beta.

She had no choice but to secretly quicken her pace while rambling like she was reciting scripture, uncertain whether she was comforting Sylvia or encouraging herself.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll get your medicine right now. You’ll feel better soon. Don’t be scared.”

Song Zhao practically jogged to Sylvia’s bed.

After carefully setting her down, she immediately turned to retrieve a dose of artificial pheromones from the temperature-controlled cabinet.

But at that moment, something abruptly tightened around her waist.

Song Zhao had no idea where Sylvia found the strength.

Like a drowning person who had suddenly spotted the only piece of driftwood in an endless ocean, she clung desperately to Song Zhao as though she would never let go.

If Song Zhao’s reflexes hadn’t been quick enough, she would already have fallen completely on top of her.

Her elbows braced on either side of the Omega.

Song Zhao lowered her eyes and met a pair clouded with desire.

The girl’s thick, long lashes trembled uncontrollably.

Their breaths mingled because of how close they were, hurried and burning as each woman’s exhalations brushed against the other until they were almost impossible to distinguish.

Sylvia was practically trapped inside Song Zhao’s arms.

Her voice turned pitiful as she pleaded,

“Song Zhao… can you help me?”

Her eyes and cheeks were both red, making her look as though she might burst into helpless, fragile tears if Song Zhao refused.

But the hand hooked around Song Zhao’s belt, whether intentionally or not, quietly slid lower.

And finally stopped somewhere dangerous.

If it tugged even another fraction—

it would unwrap her like a present.