Jimseung woke with a jerk. He was assaulted by bright light, by the scents and sounds surrounding him. He struggled to free himself from his chains, to defend himself, only to find his binds were gone, his hands were free. Standing on shaky legs, he searched all around him, looking for danger, for the next attacker. Any moment now, and the fight would start. The sound of metal-on-metal drew his eyes downward. Not all his binds were gone. A manacle was wrapped around his ankle, its thin chain snaking along the floor. What idiot would use such thin chain? The type he could easily break free from? Cautiously, he crouched and tugged at it, trying to pry it open but realized he couldn't. It was surprisingly stuck. Not so easily deterred, he followed the chain back to where it was secured to a metal loop buried in concrete. His nose flared as the smell of magic invaded him and he understood why such fragile looking chains held so strong. Still wanting to try his luck, he yanked and pulled, but it didn’t budge. The noise he was making was sure to alert his trainers that he was awake. They’d be here soon, and then there’d be more fights, more blood. A bird called in the distance, and his head whipped around, searching for it. What was this place? It didn’t look familiar. It wasn’t the training house where he was kept or any of the fighting rings where they brought him to work. It was just a room; no furniture, nothing but a blanket that had been laid across his body and a bowl sitting next to the wall. Cautiously, he inched his way toward it, looking around all the time. Whatever this place was, he was sure it wasn’t good for him especially when magic was involved. The bowl was full of clear liquid. He bent his head down and sniffed. It smelled of nothing. Water. Probably drugged. He lapped some up. It tasted clean, without that bitter aftertaste that the drugs usually gave it. With one last look around, he bent his head again and quenched his thirst. By the time he had his fill, the bowl was almost empty. He wondered if someone would come to refill it. He stood again, still half-expecting the hazy sensation of sedatives to cloud his vision. But his senses stayed sharp. Sharp enough to catch the glint in one corner of the room. Was that a camera? Was someone watching him? But who? And why? Regarding it carefully, he stared at it for another long minute before dismissing it. A camera meant nothing. It couldn’t touch him. If someone was watching him through it, then they were too cowardly to face him. When they did, he’d show them what he was and what he could do. He stepped across the room, the chain dragging behind him, going to the nearest window, crouching, and staring out. Outside, sunshine bathed the ground and the leaves. There were trees  and bushes. Bees and wasps buzzed, and birds sang. It was almost alien to him. Why would anyone bring him here? Leaving the window but staying close to the floor, he made his way to a door leading to another room. He already knew it was empty, no sounds of anyone else anywhere nearby. It was an odd room, all white and clean. Strange. He didn’t bother going inside, looping around to look through the next door. A different room with nothing of interest. The last door led outside and though he hadn’t thought his chain would stretch that far, it did, allowing him to take three whole steps into the sunlight. Once there, he stayed in a crouch, watching, and waiting. Whatever this place was, something or someone would come for him soon. There’d be a fight, and he would win. Jimseung always won. The sun rose higher in the sky and it got hotter. He shuffled backward into the shade of the doorway, never letting his attention wander, even for a moment. That was what they expected, what they waited for. He’d drop his guard and they’d be on him. Sometimes only one or two, but they liked to test him, test his limits. Three, four, even five. The enemy was everywhere, and they wouldn’t come alone. Distantly, a small part of him was aware that something wasn’t right. Questions floating past, that his conscious mind ignored. Where? How? Why? He was long past those sorts of worries. There was the fight, the rush of blood through his body, and there was the kill. Beyond that, there was nothing. The sun crept ever closer, blinding him, so he moved back into the house, under shade. He needed his eyes to see. Ears and noses could be tricked, sounds and smells could be masked. And he wanted to see whoever it was coming for him. What would it be this time? Bear? Tiger, leopard, wolf? Or even another lion? He was special, a magnificent white lion. There was nothing and no one he hadn’t fought and won. Before, the winning had mattered. Now it was just the fight, the kill. His Lion roared for blood. Hearing a noise in the distance, he went still. Someone was coming. His attention was drawn back to his chains, the things that bound him, hobbled him, trapped him. He couldn’t shift, couldn’t free his Lion, not with the metal tight around his leg. He yanked at it instead, tried to break it with the brute force of his hands, expecting the sharp bite of the metal into abraded skin. That was strange. New. Different. He stuck his fingers between the manacle and his skin. There was something there, something soft to the touch that stopped the metal from rubbing away the skin underneath. There was no pain, the skin beneath healing. Why? What was the point? Who cared if an animal like him hurt or bled? Not his handlers, not his owner, not the people who watched his fights. They shouted for blood, craved it. His gaze was drawn back to the blanket on the floor. Another piece of a puzzle he couldn’t fit together. Who cared if an animal was cold? No one he knew. But, maybe, the kind of people who cared about their animals getting cuts from chains cared about keeping them warm. Making his way on hands and knees across the floor, he crouched next to the blanket and sniffed it carefully. It smelled clean and a little like him. His scent had rubbed off on it while he slept. Beneath that were other subtle scents. Other shifters. Were they the ones he would fight or the ones who watch? The sounds were closer now. Whoever was coming walked alone. One set of footsteps. They kept an even pace, not running but not slow. Moving back to the doorway, he crouched in readiness. The wind carried the stranger’s scent to him, and he drank it down, confused by what it told him. The other shifter came into view through the trees and, low in his throat, Jimseung growled. **** Contrary to his plan of sleeping in, Sehun woke up some time around five am and since then he wasn't able to get back to sleep. Instead he checked the camera frequently during the early morning hours, even though he knew they had people on guard duty watching it, and the cottage, too. The alpha didn’t stir until a few hours after the sun came up. He watched with interest as the shifter explored his environment, surprised but not shocked that he stayed mostly on all fours, moving on four legs as if unaccustomed to walking on two. Around lunchtime, he decided the alpha had had enough time to acclimatize. Besides, he would need food soon, and the only way to get that to him was by bringing it there. He declined Kris offer to do that himself or to send an armed group. “How will we gain his trust if we act like his jailers? Just me– a harmless Omega and some food. It’ll give him a chance to learn that we mean him no harm. Moreover you know I can handle myself against any Alpha." "If things go south, use your ultra command on him." Sehun shook his head. "It wouldn't come to that." His word was just about enough, Kris nodding with the air of someone giving in rather than someone agreeing.He gathered food and water from the kitchen, keeping it simple, and set off through the woods. By his reckoning, it would be less intimidating for the alpha to hear a single set of footsteps than the engine of a vehicle. He would know Sehun was coming minutes before he arrived, and, if the wind was kind, he’d catch his scent before they set eyes on each other. Despite the chip in him, it didn't stop shifters from knowing he was an Omega. In the eyes of the blond shifter, Sehun would seem less threatening. The feral was waiting in the doorway of the cottage when Sehun stepped out of the trees. A growl carried through the air, and he halted, watching carefully. The feral crouched close to the ground, his eyes not wavering from Sehun. But he made no attempt to rush forward or break free of his chains. Sehun decided it was a warning rather than an outright threat and kept going, deliberately slowing his pace. He stopped at the end of the short path that led to the cottage door, deciding that was close enough for now not to overwhelm the feral. Setting what he’d brought down on the ground, he crouched, mirroring the alpha’s body language, but doing his best to make himself look smaller and weaker. Not a threat. Not a danger. Just a harmless omega. The blond's intense gaze didn’t wander, but there seemed to be a hint of curiosity behind it. Maybe that was Sehun's imagination, or maybe the feral really was wondering what the hell was going on. Sehun could imagine only too well what it felt like to wake up somewhere wholly unfamiliar, not knowing where the danger lay. Right now, he guessed, the danger lay with him. “Hello,” he said, speaking softly enough that he wouldn’t hurt the feral's ears, seeing as he was sure the other man was straining to hear every last sound. “My name is Oh Sehun. This is Hooligans paradise. You’re very welcome here.” The alpha growled again, baring his teeth this time. Sehun wanted so badly to know what type of shifter he was. Sometimes when a shifter turned feral, they make sounds very similar to their counterpart, but the blond's growl didn't tell him much. “I’m sorry about the magical chains, we got rid of as many as we could, but we couldn’t risk anyone getting hurt. We’ll take them off as soon as it’s safe.” The feral scented again, deeper, and cast his gaze around. There was a hint of confusion there, but Sehun wasn’t sure what was behind it: his words, the surroundings, or simply his presence. Alpha fighters didn’t typically see a whole lot of omegas, not up close, anyway. Or was he sensing their compatibility? Yeah that must be it. Thinking about Jimin's words from the night before, Sehun shuddered as he push the thoughts away. Reaching for the bag he had packed, he took out the food, a cooked meat, holding it up so the breeze caught it, dragging its smell toward the other man. That certainly got the Alpha's attention, his eyes snapping to the meat as he took in the scent. The next part was tricky. Sehun wanted to get it close enough that he wouldn’t have to throw it at the alpha but not so close that the alpha picked him as a meal instead. He almost laughed at how dramatic he was being, because he knew quite well this Alpha, feral or not wouldn't be able to harm him. Sehun was certain he could knock the other out in mere seconds. And If that didn't work he would heed Kris' words and use his ultra command. But what made him more certain he was safe was because their compatibility rate was high, higher than what was normal, thus even in such state– barely with any humanity left– the Alpha wouldn't hurt him. Not when he could help it. Sehun just didn't want to overwhelm the blond.  “It’s just some food. For you. You must be hungry.” Knowing how far the stretch of the chains could venture, Sehun inched up from his crouch and began to take small, shuffling steps, toward the alpha. The blond didn’t seem to know how to react. He growled, tensed, raised up onto his legs, but didn’t move forward or back, holding his position. And his eyes were still on the food and not on the fast-beating pulse in Sehun's neck. Once he’d gotten as close as he had measured, Sehun crouched again and tossed the food, letting it roll toward the alpha’s feet. It seemed the other man had anticipated the move, as he didn’t react to it, but simply kicked the food behind him as if to protect it. It was a clever choice, because if Sehun wanted to get to the food now, he’d have to get past the feral to do so. Nodding to himself, Sehun backed off, going for the bottle of water he’d left on the path. This was going to be trickier. If the alpha turned and went to eat the food, he could probably risk scooting closer and leaving the water within reach. But, seeing as the alpha seemed content to simply stare him down instead, it looked like he’d need another plan. For a moment, Sehun was lost in those golden grey eyes and his mind wandered back to that night– no it couldn't be possible, thus he shook his head and concentrated on the task at hand. Carrying the water back toward the growling blond, he slowed his pace.“This is water. You’re going to be thirsty, especially once you’ve eaten." Yet again the feral growled– it still didn't tell Sehun was type of shifter he was. The cause for the growl this time was probably because there was no scent from the water, no evidence of what it was. As he moved closer, the feral took a tentative step toward him, as if to warn him off. Sehun slowed to a stop, crouched, and opened the water bottle. Lifting it, he tipped it slowly, pouring some of the water over his face before swallowing a mouthful. Then he set the bottle down on its side on the ground and rolled it forwa