My Wife Fishes For Me Every Day - Chapter 8
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- Chapter 8 - "You’d Still Wag Your Tail For Me… An Alpha’s…"
Chapter 8 – “You’d still wag your tail for me… an alpha’s…”
The fox was once again looking at him with a gaze full of “trust me, this time it’ll be fine” as it tried to get up.
Mota propped himself up, his brows furrowed slightly. Wanting to escape from this awkward position, he muttered under his breath, trying to stop Ling Zhuo: “Don’t move, I…”
Before he could even say “come,” Ling Zhuo flopped down again at lightning speed—this time bumping his nose right against Mota’s hard shoulder muscles.
“Second Brother!” The three little ones beside them cried out in unison, their voices clear and crisp.
Mota, whose chest had just been grazed again by Ling Zhuo’s n1pple piercing: “…”
Ling Zhuo, humiliated in front of Mota, became angry out of embarrassment and shouted: “Ling Shang! I’m going to spank your butt! How could you waste the cleaning detergent!!”
Calling his third brother’s full name in fury.
No kid in this world can stay calm when their full name gets called by a parent figure—even if Ling Shang was a slippery little Taipan snake, he was no exception to this universal law.
The half-grown teenager instantly hid behind his younger siblings, his dark red snake pupils trembling in fear, though he still muttered stubbornly: “It’s not my fault! Blame this guy for suddenly barging in…”
But he said it very quietly.
“Third Brother, stop talking or Second Brother will spank you…” the fourth brother whispered too.
Their brother’s spankings hurt. When he and their sister had disobeyed before and eaten poisonous sausages from a stranger, their brother had saved them but still gave each of them one smack on the butt—hurting for days!
Their sister, Ling Yifeng, didn’t remember things well. She forgot that the intruder was Mota and puffed up her cheeks in righteous anger to defend her brother: “Hmph! Third Brother didn’t do anything wrong! That bad guy’s trying to take our territory—Second Brother, go beat him up!”
Fourth brother Ling Mian: “…”
He had a creeping suspicion that their household’s collective IQ was doomed.
Mota: Beating or not is secondary. If he doesn’t get off me soon, he’s going to feel something pressing against him.
This notorious leader of the Execution Division’s Squad One, the famous cold-blooded alpha, the dream of countless omegas, took a deep breath and calmly, though visibly flushed, asked:
“Pardon me, may I get up now?”
As soon as he spoke, the previously noisy group of little animals immediately went silent and scurried behind the sofa like lightning.
Ling Zhuo, cheeks blazing red and worried about blocking him, quickly rolled to the side.
Just as he tried to lift his leg, Mota’s hand pressed down firmly on his hip bone to stop him: “Don’t move.”
They were too close!
With a raspy voice, the alpha slid one hand under Ling Zhuo’s slender waist and flicked his fingers with the other. The release of his power made both their bodies suddenly weightless, floating gently into the air.
“Wah~” The three kids, who hadn’t developed any powers yet, were stunned in awe.
With one long stride, Mota landed outside the puddle. Ling Zhuo clung to his neck, his wet tail swaying uncontrollably, full of joy: Mota’s hug!!
But his happiness lasted only a second. The next moment, he was put down, and the tall alpha silently turned to head into the bathroom.
Ling Zhuo looked up and saw only the tense line of his jaw—it looked like he was angry.
“Wait here and watch our sister. Don’t let her play in the water,” Ling Zhuo instructed before quickly following after.
Mota, who only wanted to rinse off the slippery detergent on him: …Why is he coming too?
He glanced at Ling Zhuo, who was also dripping wet, and paused before closing the door.
Although Zone E wasn’t as cold as Zone C, wet clothes at night were still uncomfortable. They hadn’t turned on the underfloor heating while cleaning, and all the windows were open for ventilation, making the room almost as cold as outside. He couldn’t justify leaving someone in soaked clothes like that.
Mota ran through several reasons in his head before tilting his head slightly to gesture: come in.
“There’s hot water here. I need to clean up. Do as you like,” he said briefly, turning his back and removing his hat and mask, placing them on the sink. Still in his wet clothes, he stepped directly under the shower.
Steam immediately billowed, and the detergent foamed up in abundance, a citrus scent quickly filling the small space.
Ling Zhuo hated water pouring down like rain. As a small animal, he disliked water by nature. The only kind of bathing he tolerated was soaking in a tub—something he slowly got used to after Mota took him in.
He grabbed a dry towel, sat on the sink, and began drying his tail like he used to as a fox, waiting by the bathroom door while Mota showered.
Between moments, Ling Zhuo asked through the fogged-up glass door:
“Mota, why are you here? Did you come looking for me?”
“No, I came to find something.”
Yesterday, after reviewing the records Mirla compiled, Mota realized that the purchase and usage numbers for the catalyst didn’t add up. One vial was missing.
That afternoon, he had gone to the hospital in Zone E to question the target’s wife. The perfume on him was due to her accidentally breaking a bottle when she panicked upon seeing him.
She was clearly nervous, revealing a lot—such as the fact that the last remaining vial of catalyst was still hidden in their home. That’s why Mota had returned.
What he hadn’t expected was that the woman would move so quickly, already having people come clean the place. The yard was full of trash—it looked like they’d emptied the entire second floor. It was incredibly suspicious.
But there was no need to tell Ling Zhuo all this. He wasn’t part of the Execution Division.
After rinsing off the slippery detergent, Mota turned to Ling Zhuo with polite formality:
“Do you want to shower?”
Ling Zhuo glanced at the cascading water and shook his head firmly: “No!”
Right after refusing, he remembered how Mota used to forcefully bathe him when he first brought him home. Now, with Mota + the bathroom + shower, all the pieces lined up, and his trauma kicked in. He curled into the corner of the sink, hugging his knees, and repeated with extra resolve: “No!”
Mota chuckled: “Just like a fox…”
“Hm?”
“Nothing. I just need your help later. But if you stay like that, you’ll catch a cold.”
He needed to find the missing vial of catalyst. It was likely mixed into the pile of trash downstairs during the cleanup.
“But…” Ling Zhuo frowned in hesitation. In the end, he settled for just washing his tail in the sink and looked extremely aggrieved: “Is this okay?”
“Your tail…” Mota had been wondering for a while: “Are you in heat again?”
He’d shown this animalistic feature during the last episode, but this time, he didn’t have it at first—it only popped out after water was splashed and he tried to shield Mota with it. Speaking of which, one of the little kids outside also had horns on his head despite being so young…
This whole family was strange.
“I’m not. I’m an alpha,” Ling Zhuo recalled the Execution Division’s preference for alphas and insisted, even trying to put his tail away right in front of Mota.
Mota didn’t stop him. The half-wet, fiery red tail swept past his vision and started vanishing. He reached out and caught the tip.
Ling Zhuo’s face turned crimson in an instant, and his breathing quickened.
Ling Zhuo: Don’t touch the tail… it tickles too much…
Mota: Just one touch and he’s panting like this—still claiming he’s not in heat?
He let go, slowly rolled up the damp sleeves of his shirt like a stern parent, and leaned in, hands on either side of the sink, eyes locked on Ling Zhuo:
“The inhibitor I gave you last time didn’t work?”
Ling Zhuo: “…”
No, it didn’t—because he was never in heat. He wanted to explain, but Mota was suddenly so close. Ling Zhuo looked up at him and completely forgot what he was going to say.
Last time they met, he’d been wearing a bite inhibitor, half his face hidden. Earlier, he wore a mask. It was only now that he saw Mota’s face clearly.
He looked almost the same as five years ago, just more mature—broad shoulders, toned physique, and exuding a kind of sensual masculine charm.
My human grew up while I wasn’t watching, Ling Zhuo thought with a bitter feeling, totally dazed.
He didn’t speak. Mota took it as confirmation and grew visibly irritated with how carelessly he treated his body:
“Do I need to explain the dangers of being in heat as an omega?”
Though phrased as a question, he didn’t wait for a reply and continued:
“The danger is—facing an alpha like me, I could bite through your swollen, overheated gland at any time and inject my pheromones into you. Whether it’s a temporary or permanent mark, you wouldn’t be able to refuse. You’d still wag your tail for me…”
He paused mid-sentence with a sigh, realizing he might be overstepping. Ling Zhuo, though attractive and capable, was still a stranger.
“In short, if you want to join the Execution Division, you’d better keep your tail hidden, little fox.”
“If it’s you, I’m not afraid. If it’s someone else, they wouldn’t even get the chance.”
They spoke at the same time, each saying their own piece.
Mota: This fox is completely clueless and stubborn!
Ling Zhuo: My human is so cold and harsh… and he underestimates me… I’m so discouraged!
“…Not afraid of me? Are you underestimating me?” The alpha’s icy gray eyes narrowed, and an intense sense of threat radiated from him.
His voice was low and lazy. As he asked, he lowered his head, hovering beside Ling Zhuo’s neck, inhaling faintly as if searching for his scent.
Dominant. Irresistible. That’s the danger of alphas. The dry, burning scent of his pheromones, moistened by the steam, became tantalizingly ambiguous. Ling Zhuo’s tail bristled instinctively in warning.
He trembled but didn’t flinch. In fact, he even leaned his head slightly to the side, exposing more of his pale neck in quiet anticipation.
Veins pulsed gently beneath the fair skin. Ling Zhuo nervously swallowed, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing:
“Mota wouldn’t hurt me.”
“…”
The muscles in Mota’s arms, still braced beside Ling Zhuo, tightened as he restrained some sort of urge. It took a moment for him to relax.
He’d only meant to scare him—to make this omega more cautious. But instead…
Mota could hardly deny how tempted he felt.
After a brief silence, he met those pale blue fox-like eyes and was the first to yield:
“Inhibitors aren’t harmful. Aren’t you feeling uncomfortable like this?”
When heat hit, it would make him lose consciousness—completely vulnerable.