The archenemy managed to stay, with a pitiful look on his face and a promise to “not take up any space.”
Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye, and once again, the Little Young Master woke up in a warm embrace.
The Little Young Master watched as the alpha skillfully arranged the pillows, then glanced at him expectantly, feeling a mix of emotions.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed the alpha’s attentive care. Recently, the alpha had even moved his work to the house so he could take better care of him.
He couldn’t help but overthink things.
But as the saying goes: “Cut it off cleanly to avoid chaos; hesitate, and you’ll only bring trouble upon yourself.” That’s how he’d always seen it. As a child, he and his Omega father had suffered greatly because of his irresponsible alpha father. Fortunately, his Omega dad eventually moved on, and the Little Young Master remembered all of it clearly.
He was determined never to repeat those mistakes.
No one does something for someone else without a reason, and no matter how sweet the promises, they were often just lies.
That’s why, back in school, he fought to become the top student on his own. After graduation, he relied on himself to forge ahead in his career.
The lack of security and trust from his childhood had built up over the years, forming a protective shell around the Little Young Master.
It was both his shield and his cage.
But if that person was—
The Little Young Master glanced at the alpha, who was still busy taking care of him.
“Hey?” The Little Young Master tugged at the hem of his shirt.
“What’s up?”
“You alphas, I mean, you alphas,” the Little Young Master hesitated, then awkwardly asked, “Do you… like your own kids?”
“???” The archenemy was stunned for a couple of seconds.
What did he mean by liking your own kids? Was this question directed at him, or was it about that scummy alpha? The archenemy pondered the word “own,” and suddenly a pang of jealousy hit him.
“I think… they would like them.” But looking at the Little Young Master, who had his head down, the archenemy couldn’t bring himself to say anything else.
“Really?” The Little Young Master lifted his head, perhaps not even realizing the small smile that naturally appeared as he spoke.
“Yeah.” The archenemy felt even more jealous.
The Little Young Master didn’t ask any more questions and closed his eyes as if to rest. Seeing this, the archenemy quietly closed the door and was about to leave when he heard the Little Young Master talking to himself.
Or maybe he wasn’t talking to himself—he was speaking to his baby.
The Little Young Master said, “Baby, do you think your dad will take good care of us?”
Recently, the Little Young Master’s spirits had noticeably improved, but now it was the archenemy who looked troubled.
What did the Little Young Master mean by that?
The archenemy couldn’t stop thinking about it, and the more he did, the more it bothered him.
What did that scummy alpha have that he didn’t?
Feeling frustrated, the archenemy secretly released his pheromones, marking the territory like a circle.
One circle, two circles…
On the curtains, the carpet, the throw pillows… even the Little Young Master’s coat on the chair…
Only when the entire room was filled with his pheromones did the archenemy feel satisfied and pull back.
Hmph, he wouldn’t give that scummy alpha any chance!
The next day was sunny, and early in the morning, a ray of sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains.
The Little Young Master, still sleepy, instinctively reached out.
“Huh?” He felt the bed beside him, finding it cold and empty, and suddenly, his drowsiness vanished.
Where did he go? In an instant, the Little Young Master felt a rare surge of panic.
He called out the archenemy’s name, his voice echoing through the empty room.
“I’m here.” Thankfully, there was a quick response.
“Don’t come in yet—”
Panicking, the Little Young Master followed the voice into the kitchen, only to be swiftly ushered back out by the alpha.
“What are you doing here? The kitchen smells, and you’ll feel uncomfortable again,” the archenemy fussed as he guided him to the sofa. The alpha then brought over a plate of the Little Young Master’s favorite fruits. “The strawberries are sweet today. Want some? Or is there something else you’d like?”
“This is fine,” the Little Young Master replied. “What are you up to?”
“I’m making some soup, something nutritious,” the archenemy replied confidently.
But the Little Young Master distinctly remembered that the archenemy didn’t know how to cook.
Soon, the soup was served. The Little Young Master looked at the dark brown “tea tree mushroom chicken soup,” hesitating.
In the end, he took the spoon.
He didn’t have much choice—the archenemy practically shoved it into his hand.
But surprisingly, it tasted pretty good.
“How is it?”
“Not bad.”
The archenemy casually hid his scalded hand, the exaggerated movement clearly meant to be noticed by the Little Young Master.
“What happened to your hand?” The Little Young Master asked, just as expected.
“It’s nothing. I’m not very good at cooking, and even though I got up early to prepare, it took me ten tries to get it right. I also clumsily burned myself,” the archenemy said nonchalantly, then added after a pause, “But it’s fine. I’m going to take good care of you and the baby!”
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