After the Scummy Alpha Marked the Crazy Beautiful Heroine (GL) - Chapter 22.2

“I said,” Chi Yang’s fingers clutched Pei Jiuyao’s collar, trembling slightly, “no kissing.”

As if that would keep it a purely transactional act.

As if, that way, she would never fall. Never lose herself.

Pei Jiuyao instead brushed her lips lightly against Chi Yang’s cheek, kissing it softly over and over.

“Then I won’t kiss you,” she whispered.

Her low voice was breathy as her canines gently bit the soft flesh of Chi Yang’s chin. Her arms tightened around her.

Chi Yang gasped softly, pressed tightly against her, her face buried against Pei Jiuyao’s neck. “Gently.”

Pei Jiuyao’s palm cradled her cheek, her callused fingertips grazing tender skin.

Where she touched turned red, trailing from jaw to collarbone.

She ran her fingers through Chi Yang’s hair.

She wanted to kiss her so badly.

To devour her tongue.

All the frustration in her chest could only become violent hunger.

She wanted to be gentle too. She didn’t want to hurt her.

But Pei Jiuyao couldn’t control herself.

The one who started all this now looked like the one being wronged, her eyes misty, her voice choked with frustration.

“I can’t control it,” she murmured—and then bit down on Chi Yang’s neck.

She didn’t bite too hard, but the mark left behind was unmistakable—red with hints of bl00d, laced with a strawberry-sweet taste that filled her mouth.

It was sour.

Chi Yang winced and leaned back, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

“Bastard.”

Pei Jiuyao blinked innocently. “Didn’t you say you liked it when I bit you?”

Chi Yang’s fingers trembled as she grabbed Pei Jiuyao’s jaw, forcing her to lift her head. “That was because of the pheromones.”

“And now?” Pei Jiuyao’s eyes were hazy.

“It’s still because of the pheromones.”

But her pheromones were clearly sour.

Chi Yang wasn’t in heat, so “because of the pheromones” wasn’t really an excuse.

Pei Jiuyao slid her hands over Chi Yang’s shoulders and pressed her gently against the wall, brushing her long hair to one side and pressing against the flushed gland at the back of her neck.

But she didn’t even like Chi Yang’s sour scent.

She always felt like Chi Yang was too calm, too controlled—like she was the only one spiraling out of control.

It was different now.

Completely different.

The loss of control made Pei Jiuyao feel adrift.

“Not sweet enough,” she muttered.

Chi Yang placed a hand on the wall beside her and slightly turned her head.

Before the marking even began, Chi Yang’s body was already writhing like a wave of heat, restless and fevered.

She bit down gently on her lip, swallowing the moan that almost escaped her throat.

Pei Jiuyao had one arm wrapped around Chi Yang’s waist, the other pressing firmly against her back as she sank her fangs into the nape of her neck.

She wanted to take back control.

She wanted to climb into Chi Yang’s body, to fold Chi Yang into a tight ball and bury her inside herself—until there was no space left between them.

Her sharp teeth left one mark after another on the tender skin behind Chi Yang’s neck.

Until she heard Chi Yang’s voice—soft, low, and barely audible: “That hurts…”

Until the taste finally changed.

The strawberry flavor, at last, turned sweet.

Only then did Pei Jiuyao stop. She scooped Chi Yang up and laid her gently on the bed.

Chi Yang had bitten her lip hard enough to draw bl00d; droplets slid down her chin.

Pei Jiuyao licked the bl00d from her jawline. Unable to resist, she brushed her tongue against Chi Yang’s lips.

Chi Yang froze, grabbing Pei Jiuyao’s collar—unsure if she wanted to push her away or pull her closer.

After a long pause, she whispered, “No kissing.”

Pei Jiuyao wiped the bl00d from Chi Yang’s lips with her fingertip, then sucked it into her own mouth. “That wasn’t a kiss.”

“Do you want to taste my bl00d too?” she asked softly.

Chi Yang’s eyelashes fluttered. Before she could answer, Pei Jiuyao bit her own fingertip and pressed it to Chi Yang’s lips.

Her voice was sticky and low, like a spellworm slithering straight into Chi Yang’s mind—teasing, probing, sinking deep into her nerves.

Instinctively, Chi Yang’s pink tongue flicked out and licked.

The moment she realized what she’d done, her pupils contracted, and her face flushed scarlet.

Drinking an Alpha’s bl00d could lead to a permanent mark—what the hell was she doing?

“Pei Jiuyao!” Chi Yang’s eyes widened, shimmering with disbelief. “Just the mark. Don’t do anything else.”

Pei Jiuyao chuckled. “Alright.”

She gently pinched Chi Yang’s bleeding, flushed earlobe, then brushed the red mole behind her ear with her fingertips.

Chi Yang’s mind unraveled. Her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. She was barely conscious.

All she could hear was Pei Jiuyao’s voice calling her name, repeating how much she liked her, giggling softly as she murmured: “Why did your pheromones get so sweet?”

Estrus crashed down like a tidal wave. Their 100% pheromone compatibility was like a demonic spell, dragging her under.

Pei Jiuyao could feel her losing control.

Chi Yang melted—like a pool of water.

Soft, like cotton.

Pei Jiuyao didn’t know how many times she marked her that night.

She left bite after bite, some bloody, some not—as if she were consuming Chi Yang piece by piece.

Her porcelain skin became smeared and sullied. Her voice, delicate and sweet, was half-whimper, half-coaxing—at once scolding Pei Jiuyao for going too far and pleading with her to be rougher.

“She’s indulging me,” Pei Jiuyao thought.

Tonight was an exception among exceptions.

But Chi Yang was still mad. She had said, “Just this once.”

So Pei Jiuyao took that to mean, “There won’t be a next time.”

The sky outside turned white. Pei Jiuyao wiped her fingers clean and asked, “Do you want to shower?”

Chi Yang, either dazed or already drifting to sleep, murmured, “No. I’ll shed my skin if I wash again.”

They’d showered several times already—and each time, they ended up doing it again. Sometimes they didn’t even make it out of the tub.

“Just this once…” Chi Yang kept repeating in a whisper, like a dream.

Pei Jiuyao wrapped her in the covers, holding her close.

—

Pei Jiuyao had no idea how long she slept.

She passed out, completely unconscious. When she finally woke, the sky outside was dark.

She reached for the space beside her—cold.

Panic jolted her awake. She sat up abruptly, heart sinking.

She threw off the covers and ran barefoot through the apartment, a sense of dread creeping over her.

“Chi Yang? Are you still here?”

The room echoed back nothing.

She stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city lights sparkled below—high-rises stacked like a glittering mosaic, thousands of homes glowing with life.

Yet she felt stranded, like she was standing alone on an island.

Anxiety and emptiness rushed in like a flood.

Still in her pajamas, Pei Jiuyao grabbed her keys and ran to the garage. The silver Pagani was already gone.

She trudged back upstairs, dazed, and collapsed onto the sofa.

So empty. The whole world had shrunk to just her.

Last night… it wasn’t forced, was it?

Chi Yang hadn’t said no. Or had she? Was Pei Jiuyao too far gone to remember?

She’d bitten too hard, sure—but she remembered Chi Yang enjoying it.

Didn’t she?

She picked up her phone and called her.

“Line busy.”

She texted: [Did you leave?]

The reply: [You are no longer on the recipient’s friends list.]

Blocked.

Pei Jiuyao had been blocked after marking her sponsor for the third time.

She felt the weight of it like a cauldron dropped on her back—crushing and inescapable. No chance to explain.

Her fingertips trembled as she gripped her phone.

“We had a contract, didn’t we?”

A sharp pang of grievance pricked her chest. Her eyes reddened instantly.

Her sensitivity period was clearly still in effect.

She rubbed her eyes, took a deep breath, and dialed Ye Ci from her contacts.

After a few rings, someone picked up.

Pei Jiuyao blurted, “Ye Ci?”

“What’s wrong, Miss Pei?”

“Do you know where Chi Yang is? Why won’t she answer my calls?”

A pause. “She’s gone to clear her head.”

“Clear her head? Where?”

“Miss Pei, if she wanted to contact you, she would’ve called herself.”

Pei Jiuyao’s hand clenched tighter around the phone. She let out a bitter laugh.

Right. Being blocked meant she didn’t want to be contacted.

Why was she acting so desperate?

Did she want Chi Yang to hate her that badly?

“Then… please tell her. About what happened last night—I can explain. I…”

Explain what? That she wasn’t the original Pei Jiuyao?

Like Chi Yang would ever believe that.

Was there really no way left?

Pei Jiuyao blinked, her voice barely audible. “Tell her I’m sorry about last night. That’s all. Thank you.”

—

Half-mountain villa.

Chi Yang emerged from the pool, taking the towel Ye Ci handed her and drying off before settling onto a lounge chair.

This was the highest villa in a several-hundred-mile radius. From the rooftop, she could see all of Starview Island and the endless coastline.

Technically part of Haishi, the island sat at a high altitude with clean air and a temperate climate—a perfect retreat.

If not for hiding from Pei Jiuyao, Chi Yang would never have come.

“What did she say?” Chi Yang asked, her porcelain skin mottled with red marks—some bitten deep enough to draw bl00d.

Ye Ci handed her a healing salve. “She asked why you blocked her.”

Chi Yang scoffed and took the tube. “Doesn’t she know why? She has to ask?”

“She said she could explain what happened.”

Chi Yang’s hand paused mid-motion. She changed the subject. “This won’t affect the red carpet, will it?”

“Don’t worry. This salve is specially formulated for Omegas—it’ll erase the bite marks.”

“For Omegas,” Chi Yang sneered softly. “Can’t believe I’d ever end up needing this stuff.”

“Pei Jiuyao, though…”

“Don’t mention her to me,” Chi Yang snapped.

Ye Ci chuckled. “She sounded like she was about to cry. Said she wanted to explain. Don’t you want to hear her out?”

“I don’t care if she cries.” Chi Yang winced in pain, then flung the salve aside in frustration. “She’s just acting.”

“Not planning to go back?”

“No. It’s peaceful here.”

“You were just as mad when Mr. Chi gave you this villa.”

Chi Yang shot her a glare. “You’re really starting to side with everyone but me. First it’s ‘Mr. Chi,’ then ‘Pei Jiuyao.’ Always saying things I don’t want to hear.”

“I’m not,” Ye Ci said quickly, then smiled. “Since you don’t want her anymore, why not cancel the contract and be done with it?”

Chi Yang wrapped a blanket around herself and rose, staring out toward the sea over the distant mountains.

After a long pause, she said softly, “We’ll see.”

“…And check for me, will you? Whether Pei Jiuyao really didn’t know how to sing before.”