In front of them stood an ordinary sofa. It felt as if they had been sitting on sofas just like this one not long ago, counting money.

"Yes, everyone thinks it's nonsense. But believe me, it works every time. Come on, before we start, let me just clarify something with you. Are we thinking about the same thing? Do you really want to erase the memory of someone you don't even know?"

Looking at the fragile body in his arms, the alpha shuddered.

Such a gentle, tender and affectionate flower had once been ruined by him. And when it was too late, he let it slip away. Was it really possible to put everything back in its place and win his love again? Was it possible to regain that very great love that he had chirped about a couple of years ago while lying under the same blanket?

Would I miss such a chance? Would I understand at the right moment that I shouldn't push him away?

Squeezing the omega's hanging hand with all his strength, he heard his quiet, plaintive moan.

Damn, I hurt him again.

"Yes, I don't need a timid slave," the man replied, gathering all his willpower and without a hint of falsehood.

 "And how much do you want to erase his memory? No one knows when he became a vagrant. And when he sees you for the first time, he will be frightened, my lord. Therefore, his timidity may not go away if it is inherent in his character. But there were also those who wanted a baby in terms of mental age. Yes, you see all kinds of wonders in so many years in this business."

 Alpha did not listen to the seller's endless stream of thoughts.

 When did they meet? How many years have passed since that bloody day? Ten? No, too many.

 Ah, right...

 "There were those who once..."

 "But what are the chances that he won't remember everything again? Have there been cases where a person remembered their past?" Alpha interrupted.

 "No, my lord, the memory is erased one hundred percent, my lord."

 "But what if he meets someone he knows?"

 "My lord," the merchant continued confidently, "even if you bring him here every day, he will remember nothing. Never."

 "Never? Those are very confident words."

 "I guarantee it, my lord."

 The merchant was beginning to get nervous. They had already arrived at their destination, so had he changed his mind after seeing the ‘altar’?

 "But what if he sees his own flesh and blood?"

 "What?" The merchant couldn't believe his ears.

 "What if he sees his child? The bond between mother and child is indivisible."

 And then the merchant understood everything. His head spun. He never thought he would encounter such a thing. But how? The omega was definitely not marked, and the hole he had entered once was extremely tight. Was this omega his mate? And did this omega have children?

 Would he kill him for treating his precious omega like cattle?

 All these thoughts flashed through the merchant's mind in a second. He had already said goodbye to his life when he suddenly remembered how the alpha had slapped the omega and how the omega's eyes had been full of hatred for the alpha at that moment.

 No, all is not lost. The merchant smiled and continued to talk.

 "Yes, the bond between mother and child is strong, but magic built on blood is much stronger."

 The alpha thought for a moment.

 "If you are so concerned, my lord, then shield him from the trigger as much as possible. The child could be sent abroad to study."

 Thinking the problem was solved, the merchant approached the sofa. Pulling out the bottom shelf, he took a bowl and a sharp silver knife from it. Wiping it on his cloak, the merchant quietly began to hum a melody.

 "But what if the child is not the only one?"

  Almost dropping the sacred knife from his hands, the merchant turned around. Alpha was still standing pensively, looking at Omega.

 "Argh, it doesn't matter how many there are: two, six, you..."

 "Three."

 "Three?" The merchant already regretted getting involved in all this. He should have just sold this omega to some brothel for five gold coins and been done with it. "Fine, fuck it, it's not my business. You decide for yourselves. Kill them if you want, I don't care. But I assure you, he will never remember anything from his past!"

 "All right," the alpha finally said, his voice dull. "Then... I ask you to erase ten years of his life."

 "Why didn't you say so in the first place?" grumbled the salesman, not hiding his irritation. He sucked in air loudly, rolled up his sleeves, and began to double-check the instruments laid out on the table: a knife, a bowl, vials of cloudy liquids, bundles of herbs, and amulets. Metal clanged against stone, glass tinkled, and every sound echoed in the alpha's head.

 "Put him on the sofa, my lord," the salesman finally said, without even looking up.

 The alpha moved forward. His steps were slow and heavy, as if each one required effort. He knelt in front of the sofa and carefully removed the omega from his shoulder. The body seemed weightless, too light to be alive. The fabric of the clothing slid silently through his hands.

 He laid Omega on the sofa as if afraid of damaging him. His hair spread out across the cushion, shining, and for a moment Serak froze, staring at the gold, as if he saw something in it that he didn't want to admit.

 He ran his hand through the hair, smoothing it, untangling a strand that had caught on the button of his shirt.

 Could it be that even his hair doesn't want to let me go?

 Then he touched the soft, slightly parted lips with his fingertips. He touched his eyelashes, slid his hand over his cheek, over his ear.

 He held his breath, looked at the sleeping face, and for a moment a thought flashed through his mind - to stop everything, to destroy all these instruments, rituals, amulets that smelled of death and oblivion. Kill the seller, the omega, and then himself.

But how else? How could he burn away the past if it had become part of this boy's flesh?

He slowly withdrew his hand, straightened up, and his usual coldness returned.

"Do it," he said hoarsely, looking not at the omega, but into the void in front of him. "But if even a single drop of his blood falls where it shouldn't, I'll rip your heart out with my own hands."

The seller merely snorted and, without looking at the alpha, began to read the first lines of the ancient spell.

And the alpha still stood nearby, his gaze fixed on the face of the boy whom he himself had condemned to emptiness.