After the Scumbag Alpha Accidentally Marked the Blackened Villain - Chapter 21.2

But with nearly everyone against her, she had no choice but to reluctantly nod her consent, though her gaze toward Shan Yi grew increasingly wary.

Please let there be no one inside. Xie Yushu prayed.

With her approval, a dark gleam of triumph flickered in Shan Yi’s eyes. She quickly masked it, playing innocent, but her heart raced wildly with anticipation as the camera was lifted higher toward the window.

Almost there—soon the entire internet will see Lin Bie and Leng Jinxi, disheveled and entangled. Everyone will know Lin Bie’s true nature. Even Bei Ning will! Hurry, hurry, hurry—

Scum like her deserves to be ruined!

Her eyes gleamed sharply as the camera reached the glass. She flashed a crazed, soundless grin—distorted and almost grotesque.

Here it comes—

“…No one?”

The sudden voice shattered Shan Yi’s excitement. Her grin froze on her face. She rushed over.

“What do you mean no one? That’s impossible!”

The startled cameraman gave her space, looking confused. “You can see for yourself—it’s just a tiny room. The camera scanned the whole thing. No one’s in there.”

Shan Yi stared in disbelief.

The screen showed a dark, neatly organized space. Just a few square meters, with no sign of life—no trace of Lin Bie or Leng Jinxi’s entangled bodies.

Her brows drew tight, eyes glued to the screen, lips murmuring as if under a spell.

“Impossible… this is impossible…”

The nearby staff exchanged uneasy glances. “Shan Yi… are you okay?”

Xie Yushu also came to look. When she confirmed no one was inside, she let out a long breath of relief—and her suspicions of Shan Yi solidified completely.

“Well, if no one’s in the shed, we should move on. Maybe Miss Leng locked the door on her way out,” the host offered, trying to defuse the awkwardness. The livestream chat exploded with complaints: “Boring”,

“Leaving”, “So fake.” His eyelid twitched at the sight.

If someone had been there, his paycheck might’ve taken a hit.

Shan Yi flinched and turned to the host, anxiety tightening her expression. “Wait—don’t go yet! We’re already here, aren’t you curious? Someone must have the key!”

“How could no one be inside? Lin Bie and Leng Jinxi must be in there—they’re definitely hiding.”

After speaking, she swept her gaze across the crowd. Her eyes met someone else’s. Frowning slightly, she watched as a staff member wearing a cap stepped forward.

“I have a key,” the staff member said. “Honestly, I’m curious about what’s in there too. This room is usually never locked. It’s actually kind of weird. Since we’re all here, we might as well take a look. I’ve seen a lot of netizens saying they’re curious too.”

The host lowered his head, brows furrowed in thought. After a few seconds, he nodded. “Alright. Let’s check it out first. We’ll temporarily set aside the main quest of finding Miss Leng and explore this mysterious tool room instead.”

Meanwhile, just beyond the thin wall of the dimly lit tool room, Lin Bie, hiding in a cramped compartment, nearly felt her heart stop when she heard they were coming in.

Damn it. She really wanted to go out there and strangle Shan Yi.

Just moments ago, she had been cradling Leng Jinxi, desperately thinking of a way out when she accidentally discovered this small underground space. It was tight—so tight that the only way they could fit was to kneel face-to-face, embracing just to breathe.

Now, the woman in her arms was trembling violently from her heat, her consciousness slipping away. Hot breath and shallow, needy gasps spilled onto Lin Bie’s neck, dangerously close to her sensitive glands.

“Don’t move. We’ll be out soon,” Lin Bie murmured, biting down on her tongue until she tasted iron, forcing a bit of clarity through the haze. Her skin tingled from the Omega’s heat, sweat soaking her body from the strain of restraint. Still, she held Leng Jinxi close, trying to offer some comfort, a little more space to lean into her.

The Omega, driven by instinct, melted in her arms, powerless, nuzzling against her like a kitten drawn to her Alpha’s scent. Her lips parted again and again, yearning for the comforting allure of Lin Bie’s pheromones—but it never came.

Leng Jinxi knew exactly what danger they were in, knew people were about to walk in, knew she shouldn’t make a sound—yet her heat-addled body refused to listen. Her neck gland pulsed uncontrollably, hijacking her thoughts.

She was about to lose control.

Click.

The heavy, decaying wooden door creaked open. Lin Bie’s scattered thoughts snapped back in an instant. Her body jerked as she instinctively clamped a hand over Leng Jinxi’s mouth to silence her, rubbing her cheek against the other’s apologetically.

Above them, footsteps echoed across the wooden floor—thud, thud—each step like a hammer against her chest. Her heart pounded so violently she feared someone might actually follow the sound straight to them.

“What’s that smell? Did someone spill perfume? It’s so strong, I’m getting dizzy. I have to get out of here,” one staff member said, followed by a few others whose voices faded as they retreated.

Yes. The perfume was so overwhelming it masked the scent of their pheromones completely. No wonder it was giving everyone a headache.

Lin Bie silently prayed they’d all just leave already—quickly. Then they could get out too.

But the cramped space was saturated with Leng Jinxi’s burning heat and scent. Lin Bie’s neck glands were soaked from the Omega’s breath, her suppressant patch completely useless now. She clung to consciousness with nothing but pain.

The woman in her arms let out delicate, mosquito-soft breaths, each exhale scorching Lin Bie’s skin. Her palms were burning, and that fire coursed through her veins straight to her core.

Their bodies pressed tightly together, soft against soft, separated only by a thin layer of silk. Every breath caused the fabric to rub, and every rub pushed Lin Bie closer to the edge.

Why was Leng Jinxi so soft? It was like she had no bones. Lin Bie tried to pull away, only for the Omega to cling back to her, molding herself perfectly to her body.

“Wait… this smells like a pheromone-triggering perfume. The kind that induces heats and sensitivity,” someone said. “Isn’t this stuff super expensive? Why is it here? Could it be… a thief?!”

That set everyone off. Even the ones who had fled the perfume came back in, now frantically searching the room.

Lin Bie’s heart felt like it was walking a tightrope. She didn’t even dare breathe properly.

If they were discovered, it’d be over. Not just social death—Leng Jinxi’s entire career would be ruined because of her. She didn’t even want to imagine what would happen.

Shan Yi’s voice joined the mix—annoyingly cheerful.

Lin Bie’s temple twitched. Rage and pheromonal sensitivity made her shake.

Then—suddenly—footsteps. Clear and deliberate, approaching. It was like someone knew exactly where they were.

She froze, breath halted. Her hand over Leng Jinxi’s mouth unconsciously pressed harder. Her heart thundered so violently she was sure someone above could hear it.

The steps stopped—right above them.

Cold sweat trickled down her forehead, sliding along her face to her collarbone. She clenched her jaw so tight it ached, struggling to keep silent, gripping the near-delirious Omega in her arms.

Thankfully, the footsteps moved on. After a few seconds, they faded. Lin Bie exhaled slowly, silently.

Then—

Something soft and wet licked the palm covering Leng Jinxi’s lips. Like a kitten’s tongue.

The strange, ticklish sensation sent shivers through Lin Bie’s body like electricity. She yanked her hand back—too late.

“Mmph—”

The muffled moan escaped her throat before she could stop it.

Everything above went dead silent.

Not just the footsteps—all conversation ceased.

Lin Bie clamped her mouth shut, biting down hard on her lip. In the dark, she turned angrily toward Leng Jinxi, whose dazed eyes shimmered faintly. Realizing Lin Bie’s scolding gaze, she lowered her lashes, pouting with visible grievance.

“You hurt me,” she mouthed, then turned her head away, burying her face in Lin Bie’s shoulder as if the glare had wounded her deeply.

Lin Bie didn’t have the luxury to worry about her feelings. All she could hear was the people above—and the rising tide of panic inside her.

“What was that sound?”

“Someone groaned… Who was it?”

“Could it really be a thief?”

Shan Yi’s smug voice rang out again, clearly pleased. “Might be! They must be hiding and can’t hold out much longer—come on, keep looking!”

Keep looking?! Lin Bie seethed. Useless morons! Can’t find a damn thing!

She could imagine Shan Yi’s smug smile growing by the second. The longer this dragged on, the more unbearable it would become. No Alpha and Omega in heat could last forever.

Lin Bie’s mind was a chaotic mess. Shan Yi’s voice exploded in her head like a bomb. Her body went rigid again, tuning in to every sound above.

Another set of footsteps approached—again, toward their hiding spot.

Lin Bie shut her eyes, utterly defeated. She was ready to write her own obituary.

“Sorry, that was me,” a calm voice said. “I twisted my ankle over here.”

It was Xie Yushu.

Her breath caught—then finally, finally, she could breathe. The suffocating fear lifted slightly. She still didn’t dare open her mouth, only letting out tiny breaths through her nose—which, of course, was congested from a cold.

The arguing above resumed. Two women had begun bickering now, but Lin Bie couldn’t make out the words anymore. She had no energy left.

She knew it—she had fully entered her susceptibility phase.

Her mind was being drowned by instinct, by the primal urge to mark and possess. That she could still hold her breath was a miracle.

Eventually, the voices faded. The door creaked shut behind them with a weighty finality.

But nothing about Lin Bie and Leng Jinxi’s position was dignified.

Leng Jinxi, trembling and panting, clung to Lin Bie, her face buried in her shoulder. She rubbed against Lin Bie’s neck, but Lin Bie held her head back, refusing to let her go deeper.

Their clothes were disheveled. Leng Jinxi’s undergarments hung loosely off her shoulder, slipping halfway down her arm, but she didn’t care.

Lin Bie didn’t dare breathe deeply. She waited several more minutes to be sure—then finally let herself exhale, lungs burning from restraint.

It was over.

At last, she could stop suppressing her scent. Her head dropped against the wooden board behind her, letting the exhaustion drag her down like an undertow.

“It’s okay now.” Her voice was hoarse. Her back was numb. She furrowed her brows, casting a look at the Omega still struggling on her shoulder.

They had come so close to being found.

She wanted to scold her, to release all that pent-up rage—until she felt a wetness on her shoulder.

She froze.

At that moment, the scent of camellias burst free from the Omega in her arms, fragrant and intoxicating. Her own consciousness snapped back into her body. The burning on the back of her neck made her shudder.

“Leng Jinxi?” she whispered, worried, teeth clenched.

Had it been too late? Was she crying—silently and in pain?

The warm, trembling body in her arms stiffened slightly at her voice. Then Leng Jinxi gripped her waist tighter—her lips replaced by a sharp nip on her shoulder, teeth grazing back and forth.

Lin Bie let out another moan—stifling it just in time.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, trying to keep control, fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms.

Her voice wasn’t gentle. In Leng Jinxi’s ears, it sounded like displeasure.

Startled, she slowly raised her head. Her dark, glistening eyes looked up at Lin Bie with wounded frustration.

“You liar.”

Her voice was soft as water—full of blame and hurt—each word like fire pressed against Lin Bie’s burning heart.