Suddenly, a knock startled him from his thoughts. He shot a glance at Lowell's spirit form, hovering nearby, before shifting his gaze to the sliding window where the sound had come from.

The worn-out wooden window slid open on one side of the room, creaking as it moved. From the small gap, a hand slipped in, placing food on the broken chair by the wall. It was only then that Ivor realized the broken chair, apart from the big bed he was sitting on, was the only piece of furniture in the dusty cabin that could be generously described as clean.

"Eat."

Suddenly a command came in a low, monotonous voice, deep and full of authority.

SNAP

With that, the window slammed shut, leaving Ivor speechless.

'Wow, talk about manners...' he thought, suppressing the urge to laugh.

But then his smirk faded. That voice, that voice—it tugged at something deep inside him. Where had he heard it before?

Ivor thought, the voice lingering in his mind was like cold autumn breeze—brushing softly against his skin before fleeing, as though afraid of being caught.

Ivor tried to concentrate on the man's footsteps, but for some reason, he couldn't hear them at all.

Frustrated, he grabbed the food from the broken chair. Truth be told, he hadn't even realized there was another window in the room. The only one he had noticed before was the small window up ahead, where a faint stream of sunlight poured in, accompanied by a line of dancing of dust particles.

He looked down at the covered food in his hands. In his previous life, he had been afraid, angry even, and had taken out that anger on the food, throwing it out of the small window without taking a single bite.

But now, he wasn't angry. And truth to be told, after surviving on expired dry rations for so long, he desperately wanted to taste something fresh.

With that in mind, Ivor opened the lid. Instantly, the delicious aroma of freshly cooked food hit him like a slap to the face. The tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked food hit him like a jolt, warm and rich, filling the dusty cabin. His stomach growled in approval, and he almost swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

No way am I wasting this.

Without wasting a second, he dug into his meal, savoring every bite. The food was still warm, and each morsel melted in his mouth, making him forget the dusty cabin, the strange voice, and his mounting questions—if only for a moment.

Although it was a simple meal, for Ivor—who had grown up as an orphan, survived an apocalypse, and endured life as an unpopular, isolated omega—it felt like a golden apple had fallen from the heavens.

Who would have thought the best meal of my life would come to me as a prisoner?

Ivor swallowed his nonexistent tears and took another mouthful of the warm, white porridge, savoring the delicate flavors.

"Stupid past me," he muttered under his breath. "To think I threw away this heaven-blessed meal."

"Huh. Lowell, it seems Augustus isn't such a bad guy after all," he said lazily.

Lowell's spirit form flickered; his voice puzzled. "Hmm? Where did Augustus come into this?"

Ivor raised a brow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Didn't you smell that? The faint scent beneath the strong aroma of the food."

Lowell tilted his head, still confused. "What scent?

"A fresh breath of mint. Cold and refreshing just like that guy."

His mind wandered back. In his previous life, he hadn't noticed it. Or perhaps, he hadn't allowed himself to notice. But this time, the faint whisper of that scent, that unforgettable pheromone, stirred something deep inside him.

It was Augustus's scent—the scent of his mate. The first person to whom Ivor had entrusted everything: his body, his heart, his soul.

It would be a lie to say he didn't have any feelings for Augustus. But...

But it's not worth it; the loss didn't make up for gain.

Better to bury those feelings—lock them away in the deepest, darkest corner of his heart, where they would never see the light of day again.

Never again.

His chest tightened as his resolve hardened.

Never, ever again.

"Augustus... How can this possibly be him?"

Ivor's eyes flashed as a thought struck him. Lowering his eyelids, he sank deep into thought.

"Lowell, let's wait and see. I think I know what's going on."

That night, the same thing happened again, and this time, even Lowell confirmed the minty breath. Augustus was their mate. Unlike the others, Ivor was highly sensitive to his scent.

Once again, Ivor cursed his younger self for throwing away such a delicious meal.

Ivor looked at the broken, dusty ceiling of the old wooden cabin with faint moonlight present. He couldn't sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, the hideous expressions of those disgusting zombies flashed in front of him. He could still feel the buzzing in his ears from the extreme pain he felt when the zombies chewed his body piece by piece. Fortunately, one zombie bit off the back of his head. Although the pain was tremendous, he at least felt relieved by the quick death.

Ivor suddenly flashed a mocking smile but retracted his curved-up lips so as not to make Lowell suspicious. He hadn't told him about the horrible death he suffered— he only mentioned that he had died from the large amount of radiation present in the atmosphere.

He truly envied those who died quickly; at least they didn't have to suffer bit by bit with suffocating and unbearable pain.

Ivor sighed as he sat up again.

When I go out, the first thing to do is look for sleeping pills.

He let his thoughts drift to a memory. During the apocalypse, he'd once come across an unopened bottle of sleeping pills in the backpack of a corpse in the back alley of a grocery store, he had intended to rob. From then on, those pills had been his salvation. Whenever he found a safe place to rest—somewhere the zombies couldn't reach—he'd taken one to escape the torment of sleepless nights.

Those pills had saved him in a way; at least they relieved the exhaustion that came from restless nights filled with terror. Still, he had stayed away from survivor bases, even until his dying breath. Those places were rotten to the core, ruled by the savage law of jungle.

Maybe he had already seen enough cruelty as a male omega. He didn't plan to go through it all over again.