Chapter Text
Author’s pov:
“No.”
Shen Wen Lang’s voice was final—deep, authoritative, alpha dominance rolling through the room like an invisible wall.
Shen Lele flinched anyway.
“I’ve already been accepted, I even got scholarship” Lele said softly, fingers clenched around the acceptance letter.
His voice trembled, but his eyes were stubborn. “Dad…it’s a good university. One of the best.”
“In America.” Wen Lang emphasized the word like it was a curse. “Across the ocean. Away from us. Away from protection.”
“I don’t need protection all the time,” Lele protested. “I’m eighteen. I can—”
“You’re an omega who gets sick every other month,” Wen Lang snapped, pheromones flaring instinctively. “You faint when you’re stressed. You forget to eat. You trip over air.”
Lele’s cheeks flushed. “That’s not—!”
“It is,” Wen Lang cut in. “And America is dangerous. Foreign alphas, no family bonds, no control. I won’t allow it.”
The word allow stung.
Lele’s fingers tightened around the paper until it crumpled slightly.
“I don’t want to stay locked in China just because I’m an omega,” he said, voice shaking now. “I don’t want every breath decided for me.”
The room went quiet.
Gao Tu, who had been silently watching from the couch, finally stood up.
His omega presence was gentle—but firm.
“Wen Lang,” Gao Tu said calmly, placing a hand on Lele’s shoulder. “Let him speak.”
Wen Lang turned sharply. “You’re encouraging this?”
“I’m encouraging his future,” Gao Tu replied. “He got accepted into top universities here too—Beijing, Shanghai, even Tsinghua. Places you handpicked.”
Lele looked at his omega dad, eyes hopeful.
Gao Tu smiled softly at him. “You could stay here, Lele. Study close to home. You’d be safe. Comfortable.”
Lele swallowed.
“That’s the problem,” he whispered. “I don’t want to be comfortable.”
Both dads froze.
“I want to learn to live without leaning on you every second,” Lele continued. “I love you. Both of you. But if I don’t leave now… I never will.”
Wen Lang’s jaw clenched.
“You think this is easy for us?” he growled. “Do you know what suppressants did to your health? Your body is fragile because of—”
“Because you were scared,” Lele interrupted, tears welling. “Because you wanted me quiet. Hidden. Safe.”
That hurt landed hard.
Gao Tu inhaled sharply. “Lele…”
“I know I get sick,” Lele said, wiping his eyes stubbornly. “But I’ll manage. I’ll learn. I don’t want my whole life decided by fear.”
Wen Lang looked away.
For the first time, he looked… lost.
“You’re my only child,” he said quietly. “Do you know what it does to an alpha…to imagine losing you?”
Lele stepped forward despite his shaking legs and wrapped his arms around his father’s waist.
“I’m not leaving forever,” he murmured. “I’m just… growing.”
The room stayed silent for a long moment.
Then—
A long, heavy sigh.
Wen Lang said stiffly. “You prepare. You learn self-defense. You call every day.”
Lele’s eyes widened. “Dad—!”
“And,” Wen Lang added, glaring, “if I sense even one alpha near you—”
“I’ll come back,” Lele promised quickly. “I swear.”
Gao Tu smiled, eyes misty. “Our baby is flying.”
Wen Lang scoffed. “He’s walking. Carefully.”
But his hand rested on Lele’s head—protective, reluctant, loving.
Lele didn’t know it yet…
But America wasn’t just independence waiting for him.
A WEEK LATER
The study smelled like ink, wood polish—and alpha dominance.
Shen Wen Lang stood near the window, arms crossed, broad shoulders tense like a drawn bow. His pheromones leaked uncontrollably now, sharp and heavy, filling the space until the air felt thick.
Shen Lele sat stiffly on the couch.
His omega instincts screamed.
His chest felt tight. His head light. His scent—soft peaches and warmth—curled inward defensively, trying to hide.
“You are not going,” Wen Lang said again, slower this time.
Each word pressed down like a command.
Lele’s fingers trembled. “Dad… you just allowed me one week ago. Why you’re denying.
“ Please don’t release your pheromones like that. I feel dizzy.”
That only made Wen Lang’s jaw clench harder.
“Good,” he snapped. “Then you’ll remember why you need me.”
Gao Tu’s head lifted sharply.
“Wen Lang,” he warned, voice calm but edged with steel. “Enough.”
Wen Lang turned, eyes flashing gold.
“You don’t feel it like I do,” he said harshly. “Every alpha in that country will smell him. Look at him. Want him.”
His gaze snapped back to Lele—sharp, assessing, possessive.
“He’s too soft. Too trusting. He blushes when spoken to. He doesn’t know how to lie or defend himself.”
Lele shrank. “I’m not helpless—”
“You faint when your heat hits,” Wen Lang cut in. “You forget meals. You cry when someone raises their voice.”
His voice dropped, dangerous.
“If I let you go…and something happens—”
He didn’t finish.
The silence that followed was terrifying.
Gao Tu stood up.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
He walked straight into Wen Lang’s space, close enough that most alphas would instinctively bare their teeth.
But Wen Lang didn’t.
Because it was him.
“Breathe,” Gao Tu said softly.
Wen Lang scoffed. “Don’t command me.”
Gao Tu reached up and placed two fingers on Wen Lang’s collarbone—the exact spot that always grounded him.
“Wen Lang,” he said again. “You are hurting him.”
Lele’s eyes were glassy now, cheeks pale.
That sight finally cracked something.
Wen Lang’s scent wavered.
“Lower your pheromones,” Gao Tu murmured. “Now.”
For a moment, Wen Lang resisted.
Then—slowly—the pressure in the room eased.
Lele sucked in a shaky breath.
Gao Tu turned to him, kneeling in front of the couch. “Sweetheart, go to your room for a moment, okay?”
Lele hesitated. “But—”
“Go,” Gao Tu said gently. “Let me talk to him.”
Lele nodded and fled, legs unsteady.
The door closed softly.
The moment it did—
Wen Lang slammed his fist into the desk.
“He’s mine,” he growled. “My omega. My son.”
Gao Tu didn’t flinch.
“He’s not a possession,” he replied quietly.
Wen Lang turned on him. “You don’t understand what the world does to omegas like him.”
“I do,” Gao Tu said. “Because I survived it.”
That stopped Wen Lang cold.
“You’re trying to cage him,” Gao Tu continued, voice steady. “And cages don’t keep birds safe forever. They just make them forget how to fly.”
Wen Lang dragged a hand down his face.
“I already failed once, I couldn’t protect you” he admitted hoarsely. “The suppressants…his health…I should’ve protected you better.”
Gao Tu stepped closer and rested his forehead against Wen Lang’s chest.
“You did protect me and him,” he said softly. “Now let him learn to protect himself.”
Wen Lang closed his eyes.
For the first time, his dominance wasn’t sharp.
It was afraid.
“…I’ll put trackers in his luggage,” he muttered.
“Wen Lang—”
“And emergency contacts. And private security near campus.”
“Wen Lang.”
“And if any alpha marks him—”
“Shen Wen Lang,” Gao Tu cut in firmly. “Our Lele is strong.”
Silence.
Then Wen Lang exhaled—long, heavy.
And somewhere down the hall, in his room Lele pressed his back to the door—heart pounding—unaware that across the ocean, another alpha just as dangerous was already waiting.
----
The Shen family dining table was long, polished, and usually a place of calm authority.
Tonight—
It was a battlefield.
Shen Lele sat quietly between his dads, head slightly lowered, eating his rice in small, careful bites. He had perfected the art of not drawing attention over eighteen years.
Across from him, Shen Yu—his grandfather—set his chopsticks down with a decisive clink.
“Let this boy go,” the old alpha said calmly.
Every movement at the table froze.
Shen Wen Lang stiffened instantly. “No.”
Shen Yu raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”
“He’s too young.”
Lele paused mid-bite.
“He’s only 216 months old,” Wen Lang added seriously.
Gao Tu choked.
Violently.
“Wen Lang—!” Gao Tu coughed, grabbing his water while Lele patted his back anxiously.
“…It’s eighteen,” Lele said quietly, not looking up. “I’m eighteen years old.”
Shen Yu turned to Wen Lang with a look of pure disbelief.
“…I never thought your math skills were this impressive,” he said dryly. “Why don’t you apply for the Guinness World Records while you’re at it?”
The table went silent.
Lele’s lips twitched despite himself, Gao tu bite his lips looking away.
Wen Lang sighed aggressively, rubbing his temples. “You’re all joking, but I’m serious. He’s still young. Too young to be alone in another country.”
Shen Yu snorted. “At his age, I was already running half the family business.”
“That was a different time!” Wen Lang snapped. “Now there are dangerous alphas everywhere.”
Gao Tu shot him a look. “The most dangerous alphas are at this table.”
Lele nearly dropped his chopsticks.
Wen Lang ignored that. “What if we all move to America?”
Everyone stared.
“It wouldn’t be much of a headache,” Wen Lang continued thoughtfully. “I can relocate the company’s branch there. Buy property. Hire security.”
Shen Yu’s glare could have frozen hell.
“All your businesses are here,” he said sharply. “Your roots are here.”
“I’ll retire,” Wen Lang said immediately.
That—
That was the moment Gao Tu snapped.
His palm slammed against the table with a loud bang.
Both alphaa present straightened instinctively.
Even Shen Yu blinked.
“Don’t you dare, Shen Wen Lang,” Gao Tu said, voice calm but terrifyingly firm.
Wen Lang shut his mouth.
Instantly.
Lele stared. He had seen his father silence boardrooms, rivals, and enemies—but only one person could do this.
Gao Tu leaned forward. “You will not uproot your entire life because you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” Wen Lang muttered.
“You’re terrified,” Gao Tu corrected. “And you’re smothering him.”
Lele’s fingers tightened around his chopsticks.
Gao Tu turned to him, softening immediately. “Lele, sweetheart. Do you want to go?”
Lele swallowed.
“…Yes,” he said honestly. “I do.”
The word hung heavy in the air.
Wen Lang looked at his son—really looked.
At the boy who flushed easily.
Who got sick too often.
Who still ate slowly and carefully like he was afraid of taking up space.
And yet—
His eyes were steady.
Wen Lang exhaled, long and rough.
“ You can go. ” he said at last. “ But before that...”
Lele’s eyes widened. “Dad?”
“You’ll learn self-defense. Emergency protocols. You’ll check in every day.” He pointed sternly. “Every. Single. Day.”
Lele nodded rapidly. “I will.”
Shen Yu hummed in approval. “Good. About time.”
Gao Tu reached over and squeezed Wen Lang’s hand under the table.
Wen Lang squeezed back—tight.
Reluctant.
Letting go.