Noah’s The house was unusually quiet that evening.
Ethan had fallen asleep early, and I had spent the last hour sitting beside him, watching his little chest rise and fall.
I finally stepped out of the room.
I was thirsty, so I headed downstairs toward the kitchen.
Halfway down the stairs, I stopped.
Something was different.
The air felt heavier.
A strong Alpha pheromone filled the hallway.
My heart immediately started beating faster.
I knew that scent.
Adrian.
I tightened my fingers around the railing.
His rut was getting stronger.
I should have gone back upstairs.
Instead, I continued toward the kitchen.
I found Adrian sitting alone at the dining table.
His head was lowered, one hand pressed against his forehead.
His usually neat hair was slightly messy, and his breathing was heavier than normal.
“Adrian?” His head lifted.
Our eyes met.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
“Why are you still awake?” he asked.
“I came for water.” He looked away.
“You should go back upstairs.” “Are you alright?” “I’m fine,” he said, looking at me.
I almost laughed.
“You sound like me.” His mouth twitched, but the expression disappeared quickly.
I could feel the warmth spreading through the room.
His pheromones were becoming stronger.
“Did you take your rut suppressants?” “Yes,” he nodded.
“And?” “They aren’t working as well as they should.” I became concerned.
“You should call the doctor.” “I already did.” “And?” “He told me to stay somewhere quiet and avoid unnecessary contact.” I immediately took a step backward.
“Then I’ll leave.” I turned.
“Noah.” I stopped.
Adrian was looking at me.
His eyes seemed different.
Not frightening.
Just tired.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I looked at him, confused.
“For what?” “For making you uncomfortable.” I shook my head.
“You didn’t.” He looked away again.
I reached for the glass on the counter.
“Get some rest.” I started toward the stairs.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned.
Adrian was standing there.
He looked as though he was fighting with himself.
“Adrian?” He didn’t answer.
He took one step closer.
Then another.
I remained still.
His pheromones filled the space between us, but he didn’t touch me.
Something in the air had shifted, heavier now, thick with the kind of tension that made the walls of the kitchen feel closer than they had a moment before.
“I’m going back upstairs,” I whispered.
He nodded.
“Yes.” I turned again.
Then Adrian moved before I could take a single step.
His hand rose to the back of my neck, fingers curling hard against my nape, tilting my head up with a force that made my breath stutter.
His other hand caught both of my wrists in one grip and pinned them above my head against the wall — firm, absolute, the kind of hold that left no room to pretend I could pull free even if I wanted to.
For one suspended second neither of us moved.
His eyes searched mine, dark and unsteady, pupils blown wide from the rut, as if he were asking permission and already knowing he wouldn’t wait for it.
Then he leaned in.
His mouth claimed mine — not soft, not careful.
The first press of his lips was hungry, open, and the moment I parted for him he took it.
His tongue slid against mine, deep and deliberate, tasting me like he’d been starving for it.
The hand at my nape tightened, angling my head exactly where he wanted it, and a low, rough sound tore out of his chest against my mouth — raw, almost feral.
Heat flooded my body.
My wrists stayed trapped above my head; I made no attempt to free them.
Instead my hips shifted forward of their own accord, seeking the solid press of him, and the hard line of his cock brushed my thigh through our clothes.
My entire body froze for a heartbeat — then it betrayed me completely.
I kissed him back.
Harder.
My tongue met his, sliding, sucking, and a soft, helpless sound escaped my throat that I couldn’t stop.
His pheromones crashed over me, thick and claiming, and for those few seconds I forgot every reason I’d ever run.
Adrian tore himself away as if the contact had burned him.
His grip released my wrists instantly; his hands dropped to his sides.
His eyes were wide, the haze clearing into something close to horror, lips still wet from mine.
“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t speak.
My wrists still carried the ghost of his fingers, my neck still warm where his hand had been.
The kitchen felt suddenly too small, too bright, as though the ordinary shape of the room had no place left for what had just happened inside it.
He took a step back.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” I touched my lips without thinking.
The memory of another night flashed through my mind.
Another moment.
Another mark.
Another reason I had run away.
My heart began pounding.
Adrian looked devastated by what he’d done.
“Forgive me ,” he said quietly.
“Please.” I stared at him.
Neither of us knew what to say.
Then Adrian turned away.
I should have walked upstairs.
I should have left him alone.
Instead, I stood there, staring at his back.
Because the worst part wasn’t the kiss.
It was the way my heart had reacted to it.
And that frightened me more than anything.
I couldn’t move.
Adrian had already stepped away from me, but I could still feel the shock of that brief kiss.
It shouldn’t have affected me.
It was only a moment.
A mistake.
Yet my heart refused to calm down.
“Adrian…” He looked at me.
“I’m sorry, Noah.” His voice was quiet.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” I swallowed.
“Why did you?” He didn’t answer immediately.
“I don’t know.” That answer somehow hurt more.
He rubbed his forehead and looked away.
“My rut is affecting my judgment.
That’s not an excuse, though.” I nodded slowly.
“I know.” “I’ll stay away from you until it passes.” I should have been relieved.
Instead, something inside me felt strangely empty.
“Good.” The word came out colder than I intended.
Adrian nodded.
“Goodnight, Noah.” He turned to leave.
I watched him walk toward the hallway, his shoulders set in that same rigid, controlled line he always carried, as though he could hold the rest of himself together through posture alone.
Then I remembered the past.
The night I had gone to his apartment.
The night everything changed.
I had spent two years telling myself that I could never allow history to repeat itself.
Yet tonight, for one brief moment, I had forgotten every reason I had stayed away.
I looked down.
My fingers were trembling.
I hated that.
I hated how easily Adrian could still affect me, how quickly two years of careful distance could crack open at the first press of his mouth against mine.
“Forget it,” I whispered.
Adrian stopped.
“What?” “The kiss.” He slowly turned around.
“Forget it happened.” His expression changed.
“If that’s what you want.” “It is.” He nodded.
“Then I will.” He disappeared down the hallway.
I remained in the kitchen alone.
The house suddenly felt much bigger.
And much colder.
I returned upstairs.
Ethan was still asleep.
I sat beside him and watched his peaceful face, his small hand curled loosely around the edge of his blanket, utterly unaware of the storm that had just passed two floors below him.
He knew nothing about the complicated mess his father and I had created.
He only knew that I was his daddy.
That was enough.
I carefully pulled his blanket higher.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for.
The past?
The kiss?
The fact that part of me didn’t regret it?
Maybe all three.
I lay down beside him.
But sleep refused to come.
Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered Adrian looking at me after the kiss.
And every time I remembered it, another memory followed.
His apartment.
That night.
The mark.
The morning I left.
I pressed my hand over my neck.
“No.” I couldn’t go back there.
I wouldn’t.
Sometime after midnight, I heard movement outside the room.
I opened my eyes.
The hallway was quiet.
A few seconds later, Adrian’s voice came from downstairs.
He was speaking to someone on the phone.
I couldn’t hear everything, but one sentence reached me clearly.
“Don’t involve Noah in this.” I sat up.
My heart tightened.
Who was he talking to?
I carefully stepped into the hallway.
But before I could reach the stairs, my phone vibrated.
I looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
One message.
You told him to forget the kiss.
My blood ran cold.
Another message appeared.
But you can’t make him forget the mark.
I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering uselessly over it, as if there were something I could do to make the words unwritten.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
I quickly turned.
Adrian stood at the end of the hallway.
He looked at my face.
Then at my phone.
“What happened?” I locked the screen.
“Nothing.” His expression tightened.
“Noah.” I shook my head.
“Nothing happened.” He didn’t believe me.
Neither of us spoke.
The silence between us stretched long enough that I could hear the rain starting again outside, soft against the windows, indifferent to everything unraveling inside the house.
Then Ethan stirred inside the bedroom.
“Daddy?” I immediately turned toward him.
“I’m here.” I hurried back into the room.
Behind me, Adrian remained in the hallway.
And for the first time that night, I realized something.
The person sending those messages hadn’t just been watching me.
They had been watching us.
Okay… ADRIAN KISSED NOAH.
And Noah immediately told him to forget it happened.
But judging from the way Noah reacted… can he really forget it himself?
And that final message?!
“You told him to forget the kiss.
But you can’t make him forget the mark.” WHO IS WATCHING THEM?!
We’re also getting closer to the truth about Noah’s past, Adrian’s family, and the mysterious events surrounding that night.
And now… Chapter 19 is going to deal with the aftermath of what happened tonight.
Noah is going to have some serious emotions to deal with.
See you in Chapter 19!
— Ari1