Ren felt like he had lost his sanity. He couldn’t do anything about the man who was leading him down a dark tunnel, far away from the light behind them.

Cilian stepped out of the car first and reached back to haul Ren out in his arms.

Ren didn’t even attempt to fight him anymore, his body feeling like lead and his mind sinking into a thick, hazy fog from the overwhelming crush of pheromones.

His eyes were unfocused as he slumped against Cilian’s chest, his head resting against the Alpha’s shoulder while they moved through the silent, cold halls of the mansion.

Cilian carried him up the grand staircase with a steady, effortless stride that made Ren feel even smaller and more fragile than he already was.

Cilian finally got to Ren’s room, but then turned to keep walking down the hallway to the master suite that belonged to him.

The maid who had quickly rushed ahead on seeing the situation opened the door, and then closed it as Cilian walked in with Ren in his arms.

He walked towards the bed and set Ren down in the center of it.

Ren stayed exactly where he was placed, his limbs splayed out and his chest heaving with shallow, ragged breaths. He looked up at the ceiling, his vision swimming as the scent of Cilian’s room—a concentrated, chilling frost—filled his lungs and pulled him deeper into a state of forced submission.

Cilian stood at the edge of the bed, slowly peeling off his charcoal suit jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. He began to undo his golden cufflinks calmly, his gaze never leaving the flushed, disheveled mess he had made of the man on his bed.

Then, he crawled onto the bed, hovering over Ren and caging him in place with his arms, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks steadily.

"You still look as marvelous as you did two years ago," Cilian mused, his voice smooth and airy as he leaned his head over Ren’s.

He reached out to trace the line of Ren’s jaw, his fingers lingering on the damp skin where the blood and tears had mixed, now filled with sweat.

Cilian’s fox eyes curved into a dark, satisfied crescent as he admired the way Ren’s pupils were blown wide with exhaustion and defeat. He looked at Ren not as a person, but as a prized possession that had finally been returned to its rightful display case.

Ren tried to pull together a single thought, but his mind kept slipping back to the image of the guard’s blood and the toxic, poisonous taste of the kiss in the car.

He wanted to spit in Cilian’s face, but his muscles refused to obey, leaving him to lie there and endure the Alpha’s predatory admiration.

"I think I’ll keep you right here tonight," Cilian whispered, his thumb grazing the ruby on Ren’s collar. "You’d like that too, right, Ren?"

But Ren’s consciousness began to drift. He couldn’t handle it, the pressure from Cilian’s Pheromones. It was suffocating, and at the same time, it fed his body with what he had been secretly craving for.

Ren slipped into a dream, a rather lucid dream where he found himself in a dark tunnel. Ren felt himself falling without an end, no feeling in his feet, and no feeling in his arms either.

He was just... stuck.

The hazy fog of pheromones acted like a physical weight, pressing him down into the mattress until his consciousness, which had slipped away for a few minutes, came back.

When he finally opened his eyes again, his movements were lazy and disjointed, his brain struggling to process the environment or the nerves in the rest of his body.

He stared up at the high, forest-green ceiling of the master suite, his breath coming in shallow, uneven hitches.

The air in the room was still thick with the chilling scent of Cilian’s Pheromones, making it feel as if he were breathing through water.

But aside from that, there was a strange, localized heat pooling in his lower body, a wet dragging sensation that pulled him further out of the stupor... or rather, dragged him deeper into it.

Ren blinked, his vision slowly clearing. He couldn’t ignore the faint slurping sound and looked down. His trousers had been discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving his pale legs exposed against the dark silk sheets.

And on top of him was Cilian, kneeling between his thighs, his blond hair shimmering under the dim amber glow of the bedside lamp. He was focused, his head bobbing with a slow, deliberate pace as he took Ren’s small dick into his mouth, licking it with his tongue like it was candy.

Ren’s heart gave a sudden, violent thud against his ribs, but the biological response was faster than his mind.

The friction and the heat sent a jolt of unwanted electricity through his nerves, forcing his hips to give a small, involuntary twitch. He wanted to pull away, to kick Cilian in the face and scream, but he still couldn’t feel his limbs properly.

He gripped the silk sheets, his breath coming out more ragged.

Cilian noticed the movement and looked up without stopping, his fox eyes curving into a hooded, predatory gaze as he watched the realization hit Ren’s face.

He looked entirely comfortable, his expression one of calm, focused adoration, as if he were simply tending to a garden he had finally reclaimed.

He reached down, his cool fingers wrapping around Ren’s ankles to hold him in place, ensuring that Ren couldn’t retreat even if he found the strength to move.

"You’re awake," Cilian murmured against the skin of Ren’s dick, his voice muffled but vibrating with a dark, satisfied hum, and Ren shuddered, feeling his breath caress his already sensitive skin.

Cilian didn’t wait for a response before returning to his task, his tongue swirling around the top, an action that made Ren’s head fall back against the pillows.

Ren bit his lip, desperate to find a focal point of pain to distract him from the pleasure Cilian was forcing upon him.

He was trapped in the master’s bed, under the master’s gaze.

It was on this night that Ren realized that Cilian didn’t just want his loyalty—he wanted to consume every part of him until there was nothing left for Ren to call his own.