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Transmigrated As A Feisty Omega

“I love you, Brys," Storm whispered. “Love?” I scoffed. “Do you even know what love is?” I raised a brow at him. “Of course, I do. I love you, Brys," he repeated as he leaned closer to kiss me. “I've had feelings for—” The words died on his lips. His eyes grew wide in shock as blood spluttered from his lips. “Wh... What did you just do?” His gaze went down to the knife I drove deep into his chest. “What's wrong, Storm?” I smirked. "Don't you love me anymore?" I mocked. Though it hurts me to do what I did, I had to do so, for my safety. If I don't kill him now, he won't hesitate to do the same to me, in the future... ***** Mega, a nerd who is obsessed with reading novels and comics, ended up reading a comic that sent his blood boiling. He cursed the omega in the book who was so pitiful that the Alpha used him only to kill him when he felt the omega was useless. Unfortunately, Mega had an accident on his way on an errand, and by a sheer stroke of luck, he found himself in the same trashy comic. And what was more? He discovered that he now resides in the body of the omega who was abused by the Alpha he admired. Now, he's determined to turn his fate even if it means going against the plot, and his stupid system. He was determined not to make the same mistake his former host had...

Unsolvable_Mystery · LGBT+
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141 Chs

A resentful Alpha

I knocked on Storm's door the moment I got to his dorm but got no reply. "Storm? Are you in there?" I asked as I knocked on the door. "It's Str— it's Brys. I'm here to check on you," I knocked once more, hoping he will come to the door, but nothing happened.

The corridor is empty because the others are either in their classes or the cafeteria; so, I don't have to worry about disturbing anyone with my knocks.

"Storm, I—"

The door to his room opened, and a half-naked Storm stood on the other side with his arms folded, and his glares narrowed at me.

I swallowed as my eyes took in his skimpy excuse of a short, that did nothing to hide his… Ahem...

I immediately removed my eyes from his crotch and stared up to look at his chest. The wound from the knife stab has healed, leaving behind a small scar at the place.

I gulped, feeling guilty about it.