Ren’s fingers were curled into such tight fists that his nails drew blood from his palms.

The sheer arrogance in Cilian’s voice was like a physical weight, crushing the air out of his lungs.

​"Cilian, you destroyed the radio, didn’t you?" Ren accused, his eyes burning and his jaw locked. He didn’t need a confession; he could see the satisfaction dancing in the depths of those gold-brown eyes. "You’d rather we all rot here than lose your control over me."

​Ren’s voice rose, cracking with the weight of four days of trauma. "You’re worse than the devil, Cilian, you’re—"

​"A monster," Cilian interrupted, stepping so close that Ren had to crane his neck back to maintain eye contact. Ren snapped, his breath coming in shallow hitches as the Alpha loomed over him.

​"Yes, Ren, I am a monster," Cilian whispered, his hand reaching out to wrap firmly around the back of Ren’s neck. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Ren’s entire body trembled with rage and a cold, creeping fear that he could no longer suppress.

"I am your monster. And I intend to fulfil the role just as honestly as I’ve been fulfilling the role of your husband on this island."

​He leaned down, pressing a long, lingering kiss to the top of Ren’s head, an act of possessive dominance that made Ren want to scream.

Then, Cilian turned his gaze back to Harris. The warmth vanished instantly, replaced by a gaze so sharp and lethal it felt like a death sentence.

​"Enjoy the island, Harris," Cilian said, his voice dropping into a terrifyingly smooth lilt. "Take it as a vacation and make sure to adore every single part of your new wife’s body. You’ve earned it, haven’t you?"

​Harris stood frozen, his hand still clutching the broken modulator, his eyes darting between the man who signed his paychecks and the victim standing beside him.

Ren was shaking, his mind a dark storm of vengeance. If we stay here, I will kill him, he vowed to himself. I will wait until he is asleep, and I will bash his head with a stone. I do not care about anything anymore. This monster, I will definitely—

​Thump. Thump. Thump.

​The sound was distant at first, a low vibration that Ren felt in his teeth before he heard it with his ears. He stiffened, his head turning toward the horizon.

​"That’s..." Ren’s voice was a mere breath.

​The sound grew louder, a rhythmic, mechanical beating that sliced through the peaceful hum of the island.

A dark shape appeared over the tree line, glinting in the morning sun. It wasn’t a bird. It was a helicopter—sleek, black, and bearing the unmistakable crest of the Vane family.

​Ren’s knees nearly buckled as he saw this. Rescue. It was actually happening.

They were finally here.

But... But Cilian destroyed the modulator, right? So how were they here?

​Cilian let out a low, melodic laugh that sent a different kind of shiver down Ren’s spine. Before Ren could move, Cilian’s arms were around him, pulling him into a crushing, jubilant hug.

​"Did I scare you, wifey?" Cilian murmured, his voice full of a dark, playful amusement as he squeezed Ren tight.

He pulled back just enough to look into Ren’s wide, shocked eyes, his thumb brushing a stray tear from Ren’s cheek.

"I wanted to see what you were going to do—how far that ’Hard Heart’ of yours would go when it thought it was truly trapped. But don’t be mad, wifey. Help is already here. Maybe too soon, but nothing to be done, right?"

​Ren stared at him, his mind reeling with all the things Cilian had done just so he would be misunderstood and force Ren’s hand.

Was he insane? Yes, it likely was.

It had been an insane test. A sick, psychological game to see Ren’s despair before Cilian ’saved’ him again.

"You said if I loved you, I’d check the radio to see if help was coming, right?" Cilian asked, brushing Ren’s hair from his face and brushing his thumb over Ren’s creased forehead. "And I did. I even made sure to reach them. I brought help, Ren. Does this prove how much I love you now?"

Ren’s heart did a sickening thud, flipping in a way he would rather interpret as nauseating.

He swatted Cilian’s hand away with a force that made his own palm sting, but the satisfaction of the rejection was hollow.

The helicopter’s rotors were kicking up a gale now, whipping Ren’s hair across his face and sending a cyclone of sand and dried flower petals into the air.

"You’re sick," Ren spat, his voice nearly lost in the mechanical roar. "You think this is love? Breaking me down just so you can be the one to pick up the pieces? That’s not love, Cilian. That’s a sickness."

Cilian’s smile didn’t falter; it only deepened, turning into something more predatory as the black aircraft touched down on the cleared sand of the village outskirts. The crest on its side—the Vane family insignia—glinted like a brand.

"Then, will you give me the cure, Ren?" Cilian murmured, leaning in close so his breath hitched against Ren’s ear. "You’re the doctor, after all."

Ren couldn’t even refute that sleazy line.

Cilian chuckled, the laughter bubbling in his throat.

"Fine, you’re getting exactly what you asked for, Ren. We’re going home. So, smile a little, please?"

Ren turned his face away. He couldn’t bear to look Cilian in the face for another second.

Harris stood a few feet away, the broken modulator falling from his hand into the sand.

He looked at the helicopter, then back toward the village where Kaelo was likely watching from the shadows of a hut.

The pilot’s face was a mask of agony—caught between the duty of his old life and the heavy, biological anchor Kaelo had planted in him during the night.

"Captain!" Cilian shouted over the noise, gesturing toward the open doors of the chopper. "Time to decide if you’re a pilot or a husband!"

Ren watched as men in tactical gear—Cilian’s private security—leaped out, their boots hitting the sand with a synchronized thud.

They didn’t look like rescuers; they looked like a recovery team for stolen property. They bowed their heads as Cilian approached, their eyes never once lingering on Ren’s disheveled state or the marks on his neck.

"Sir, the extraction point is secure," the lead guard announced.

Cilian gripped Ren’s waist, his fingers digging in with a strength that brooked no argument. He began to lead—no, drag—Ren toward the waiting machine.

"Wait," Ren gasped, digging his heels into the volcanic sand. He looked back at the village, at the bamboo huts where he had been forced to play a role that had felt terrifyingly real. "The people... we have to say something. We can’t just—"

"Ah, I knew it, you loved our time here so much you couldn’t possibly let go!"

"Just shut up and listen to me," Ren yelled at him, and for once, he went quiet to listen. "We have to at least say goodbye and thank them. That’s the least we can do, and... we have to give Harris time to decide what he’s going to do?"