Trapped in a Novel as the D-Class Alpha I Hated Most Chapter 12: Even I’m Villain... I Will Survive

The hot coffee is set in front of us, steam curling lazily into the air.

Zyke’s eyes stay on —sharp, unmoving, heavy with pressure.

Should I be scared?

Of course I should be. He’s an S-class alpha. His pheromones could crush anyti he wants.

But the mind is stronger than pheromones.

I keep my posture relaxed, my expression calm. I’m not using Zyren’s old sharp tongue, not giving him the reactions he expects. I smile softly, composed.

"Hm... big brother," I say lightly, "tell . Why did you suddenly want to et ?"

His gaze flicks around the office, assessing, asuring, before returning to .

"I just wanted to visit," he says coolly. "See how your business is running."

I lean back in my chair, unbothered. "I appreciate you giving your precious ti."

He leans back as well, lips curling into a faint smirk.

"Even as a D-class alpha, you’re running things well. I’m impressed."

I look at him quietly.

Zyke Kael—Zyren’s big brother.

Once, they loved each other. Protected each other. Grew up side by side.

Then the truth ca out.

One brother, an S-class alpha.

The other, a D-class disappointnt.

From that mont, everything changed.

Their parents’ eyes changed first—then their words, their expectations, their love.

Their tone changed. Love beca comparison. Pride beca preference.

Zyke started standing taller, speaking colder, looking down on his little brother whenever he could. The distance between them grew, day by day, year by year.

Until one day, it shattered completely.

Zyren pushed him from the mansion’s high window.

For revenge.

A fall that should have killed him.

But S-class alphas are hard to break.

Zyke survived. His injuries healed.

Their bond never did.

From that day on, they weren’t brothers anymore—only rivals, hungry for each other’s blood.

Zyren... you shouldn’t have pushed him from that height.

In that mont, you didn’t just hurt him—you turned your own brother into your enemy.

I understand it.

Zyke was the one who started it.

He was wrong to look down on his own little brother, wrong to let pride and rank poison his heart.

But still, Zyren... there were other paths.

Other choices you could have made.

Instead of pushing him from the heights, you could have walked away, fought back with your own strength, proved your worth in ways that didn’t cost you everything.

That single act didn’t end the conflict—

it sealed it.

Fool...

Zyren....

I bring myself back to the present and smile again.

"Thank you, brother."

He watches closely. I know my calm bothers him more than any insult ever could.

I lift my cup, take a slow sip.

Perfect temperature. Perfect taste.

His gaze sharpens with every second I remain unshaken.

Finally, he breaks the silence.

"Zyren," he says coldly. "I’m waiting."

I set the cup down, blinking innocently. "For what, brother?"

The air suddenly tightens.

My chest constricts.

What—

Why does it feel like the oxygen is disappearing?

My temples begin to sweat. Heat rushes to my face. My breathing turns shallow.

I grip the edge of the table, eyes wide.

Zyke sits calmly across from .

He’s doing it on purpose.

His pheromones slam into —heavy, crushing, rciless.

He leans closer, voice low.

"I’m waiting for your little good boy act to end," he murmurs.

"For you to return to your real, filthy personality... Zyren."

My hand flies to my throat. The other claws into the table. I can’t breathe—can’t move.

This is death.

Then he stands.

Adjusts his coat as if nothing happened.

"This is just the beginning," he says coolly. "Be ready."

He walks out.

The pressure vanishes instantly.

I suck in air—deep, desperate breaths—lungs burning as oxygen finally floods back in. I collapse against the chair, sweat dripping down my face, skin flushed red, nerves screaming.

God... I was so close.

I close my eyes, whispering hoarsely,

"I already died once."

I inhale again, steadying myself.

"I won’t lose this second life."

Even if I’m a villain.

I will survive.

I sink back into the chair, leaning into it as I take long, uneven breaths, eyes still closed.

God... be ready.

What does he an by that?

The echo of Zyke’s words crawls under my skin. I don’t want to feel that kind of pain again. Not ever. My heart is still racing, pounding so hard it feels like it might crack my ribs from the inside.

The door opens.

I flinch and my eyes fly open—

Again..?

Not him.

It’s Deniz.

A breath I didn’t realize I was holding finally escapes . Relief floods my chest so fast it almost makes dizzy. Deniz’s eyes sweep over , sharp and quick, scanning my face. His expression changes instantly—calm lting into worry.

"Sir... are you okay? What happened?"

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He moves fast, pours a glass of water, and cos straight to , urgency in every step. He presses the glass into my hand. I take it and drink everything in one go, swallowing desperately. My throat burns with dryness.

"I need to call the company’s ergency doctor," he says, already pulling his phone from his pocket.

I reach out and grab his wrist before he can dial. My breathing is still uneven, my voice trembling despite my effort to sound steady.

"I’m alright, Deniz. There’s no need."

He hesitates, eyes fixed on my face. "Sir, your face is red. Please—let the doctor check you."

I force a smile, even though my muscles feel tight and sore. "I’m fine. Really. No need."

Slowly, reluctantly, he lowers his phone and slips it back into his pocket. The worry doesn’t leave his face.

I lean back again, staring at the ceiling.

Zyke is really angry with zyren.

Deniz remains standing beside , silent, watchful. The thought cos unbidden, almost absurdly soft in contrast to the tension clawing at my chest—my future wife really cares about this much. Of course he does. He should. I’m his future husband.

My gaze shifts to him. His rose-red scent lingers faintly in the air—warm, calming, grounding. Damn it... it feels too comfortable. Too good.

"I’m sorry," I say quietly. "Our lunch plan got ruined."

He looks startled. "Why are you apologizing, sir?"

"I’m hungry," I add. "Order whatever you like. I’ll eat anything."

He nods imdiately. "Yes, sir."

He leaves the room, but the worry still clings to him like a shadow.

I stare at the closed door long after it shuts.

He worries so much about Zyren because Zyren is only a D-class alpha. Not high-ranking. Not strong. No rapid healing. No overwhelming pheromone to protect himself from an attack like that.

And today... that weakness almost cost everything.