My Father Sold Me to a bunch of Crazy Alphas Chapter 92: Slaves to our Nature ( Luther’s POV )

I didn’t move or breathe. Or react in any way.

At least I don’t think I did.

This annoying idiot that did nothing but gather unwanted attention over for the last year was grinning ear to ear, excited about so asly eye contact.

I covered my lips.

It wasn’t to protect myself from another unexpected kiss. It was just an involuntary way to check if the heat of his mouth on mine was still lingering—

As if to prove it actually happened.

He swapped a piece of my hair behind my ear. His teal eyes looked soft and needy.

Despite his big grin, he looked like he was searching for approval. Or a scolding. Anything really.

"Did you hate it?"

"Why would you kiss ?"

"I’ve told you since we were in high school. I like you, Luther."

"Why? I haven’t talked to you. Or did anything for you to like ."

"Why should that matter?"

"So you’re just physically attracted?"

His eyes widened in shock. For a few seconds, he only looked at . Like I just fell down to Earth and hit my head.

Like I’ve escaped a ntal asylum and just yelled out loud the most shocking and out-of-the-box statent a human could ever tell.

He looked at as if I had said that he had two heads that juggle continuously with each other each ti he farts, it would be more believable.

"No, Luther, that’s not it..."

"Then why? Do you just enjoy being a victim of your shallow emotions?"

"Luther, you are refreshing. I-I put up this clown act, this perfect guy act every single day since I gained consciousness. A beta is dood to be nothing. Background noise. Unimportant."

His gaze averted mine for the first ti.

"You can’t be extraordinary since you’re not an alpha. You also can’t just be indifferent to your future. You’re not an oga, nobody is going to provide for you. You just have to work hard to be purely unremarkable."

His voice cracked on the first word.

Not loud, not steady.

It wasn’t the usual smooth, easy tone he always used to get under my skin.

This one sounded raw, like sothing slipped through that he didn’t an to show.

"I don’t want to live like a ghost. I want to feel alive, I want people to notice . I want to be extraordinary. I won’t let my secondary gender, sothing I can’t change, dictate that my life is nothing."

"I didn’t notice you. I ignored you. I treated you like nothing. I’ve done to you what you despise the most. So why?"

"No, Luther. You didn’t. All those people cheering on, laughing at my jokes, gravitating around — they are all treating like a circus monkey. In their eyes, I’ll always be a beta. So it’s fun to do charity and let a poor beta entertain them. It’s not like it’s gonna last. But you?"

He stroked my jaw gently with his finger. It was barely a touch.

His eye unclear, unfocused.

His heartbeat loud enough for to hear.

His mouth twisted in a concealed, practiced smile that just now revealed so much sadness behind it.

"You didn’t ignore . You treated like a nuisance. Like an annoying bug that always bothered you. Like an equal. You didn’t laugh at my jokes because you just didn’t find funny. Not because I’m a beta. You didn’t just -try on- to see what a beta would feel like. Sure, you hated my guts. I think you still do, but you never belittled to what nature said I am."

"So you like because I wasn’t impressed with your boofonary?"

"I like you because you didn’t buy my act."

"What a pathetic reason to like soone."

"You’re also super hot."

His usual grin reappeared.

I couldn’t help, but smile as well.

"I know how you feel."

I didn’t an to talk. God knows the last thing I wanted was to give this clowny idiot a chance.

And yet—

Maybe it was the kiss.

Maybe it was the monologue.

I just found myself on the verge of crying.

"I-I am a toxic oga."

He stared at like I’d just said sothing impossible.

Like the thought never even crossed his mind.

His breath caught, shallow and sharp, and I could see the way his throat worked, like he was trying to swallow it down but couldn’t.

That stupid grin he always wore—it didn’t co back.

His lips parted, but no words ca out.

Just silence stretching between us, heavy and fragile, like one wrong move would shatter it completely.

"Yeah, my dad doesn’t like displaying that information. Keeps the marriage proposals short, you know?"

My voice choked for a second. It was hard to swallow the reality of my words. I’ve never aired them out before. I was not sure why I was now, but Tom was listening.

Squeezing my hands, looking at .

"Well, my toxicity is quite high and there are a lot of expectations on . My father— My father held his position as the Pri Minister for years. He can’t have his child be anything less than perfect. And yet, look at !"

I could feel a tear sliding down my cheek.

I didn’t bother to wipe it clean.

"I don’t look anything else like an oga. I don’t act like one either. I just can’t stand the thought that one day, one of these alpha idiots will be in charge of my life while I just sit prettily next to him. I have dreams too! I am smart and I work hard."

He moved.

Fast, but not like before.

No teasing this ti.

free\.c o(m)

No grin.

His arms wrapped around , pulling in so hard I almost stumbled against him.

The air left my lungs for a second, not because it hurt, but because it was overwhelming.

He held on like he wasn’t going to let go.

His chin brushed the side of my head, and I could feel his breathing—uneven, shaky in a way that didn’t match the guy I knew.

His chest rose and fell quickly against mine, and for once, he didn’t try to fill the silence with a laugh or so stupid comnt.

One of his hands moved slowly up my back, steady and careful, like he was trying to ground —or maybe himself.

My fists stayed at my sides for a beat before they loosened, hanging there useless while my heart hamred loud enough to drown out everything else.

"I don’t want to be just a child incubator. A symbol of my father’s wealth or an asset to be traded."

"I understand."

His voice ca out strangled. I could tell he was crying too.

Yet, this pressuring tension in the air,

The tears we shared,

The dreams too big for what society dictates,

The suffocating tightness of the hug gave both of us a sense of comfort neither of us had experienced before.

"I knew you were special, Luther."

"Guess you’re not that annoying either."

Tom didn’t let go right away.

His arms stayed firm around like he was trying to keep the pieces from breaking apart. His breathing had slowed a little, but I could still feel it, shaky against my cheek.

Mine wasn’t much better.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t much—just enough so he could see my face. His hands stayed on my arms, like he was afraid I’d run the second he let go.

I should have.

I should have stepped back, walked out of the library, left him there with whatever this was.

But I didn’t.

The barely connection we had was holding nailed to the floor. That ounce of comfort.

No matter how pathetic and desperate.

His eyes found mine, red at the edges, damp like mine probably were.

They weren’t teasing anymore.

All that playfulness he hid behind was gone, stripped away completely.

What was left was sothing raw, sothing I didn’t know how to look at without feeling like it would swallow whole.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

The question was there, plain as day, sitting heavy between us.

Permission.

That’s what his eyes were asking for. Not demand, not a trick, not another joke. Just a quiet, desperate asking.

I froze, breath caught in my throat.

Everything in scread to back away, to shut this down before it went any further.

But then I saw him—really saw him—standing there like he was about to break if I said no. And sothing inside cracked in a way I couldn’t put back together.

I didn’t have a clown in front of anymore. I had a boy just as broken as I am. Just as desperate and yearning.

Before I could think, before I could talk myself out of it, I moved.

My hands curled into his shirt, gripping like I needed him to stay right where he was.

My feet shifted forward, and I rose onto my toes, closing the space between us in one sharp breath.

The kiss hit hard.

Deep.

Not soft or careful.

It wasn’t sweet—it couldn’t be.

It was full of everything we’d been holding back for years, everything we’d buried under anger, avoidance and grief for our real potential.

Tom didn’t hesitate.

The second my lips touched his, he sank into it like he’d been waiting for this his entire life. His hands slid up my arms and then around my back again, pulling closer until there was nothing left between us. His grip was fierce, grounding, almost desperate, like he thought I might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

I didn’t pull away.

Couldn’t.

My fingers tightened in his shirt, knuckles white, like letting go would hurt worse than anything else.

Every breath we stole from each other was shaky, broken, laced with that sa heavy sadness we couldn’t put into words.

Tears slid down, hot against my skin, and I didn’t even know whose they were anymore.

His?

Mine?

Both?

It didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the way his mouth moved against mine, the way he kissed like this was the only language we had left.

When I finally broke away for air, it wasn’t far.

Our foreheads rested together, both of us breathing hard, both of us trembling just enough to feel it.

His eyes opened slowly, and even through the blur, I could see everything in them.

Relief. Fear. Need.

All of it laid bare in a way that left gutted.

"Could you- could you have , Luther? Could you accept ? Could you love ?"

My voice threatened to co just as shattered as his. So I just nodded and let my head rest on his chest, deafened by the loud drum of his heartbeat.

I held him tight.

But nature was about to prove us wrong. No matter how much we wanted, we were slaves to our biology.

And so on, not even a year after we found each other truly, I’ve almost killed Tom.