Perhaps because it was his first time experiencing a rut, the alpha’s clothes were disheveled, his face flushed, and his eyes clouded with confusion.
“Come here,” Shen Yan’s voice was laced with temptation as he spread his arms. “Help me take off my clothes first.”
Wen Xiuran nodded obediently, nuzzling against Shen Yan’s palm before tearing his jacket apart with his hands, then reaching for Shen Yan’s pants.
Shen Yan: “…”
He grabbed Wen Xiuran’s wrist, his tone already tinged with displeasure. “I’ll do it myself.”
This outfit had been a gift from a former alpha—expensive, with high-quality fabric. Though Shen Yan didn’t usually seem materialistic, watching such a pricey garment get shredded into rags right in front of him made his heart ache.
The alpha let out an uncooperative snort, ignoring Shen Yan’s protests as he ripped his pants apart. Then, with brute force, he pinned Shen Yan against the door, sealing the slight gap that had been opened earlier. Like a canine, he buried his face against Shen Yan’s neck, sniffing greedily.
Shen Yan’s back slammed against the door, the pain forcing a sharp inhale as he instinctively curled his legs.
Wen Xiuran took the opportunity to kiss him—perhaps by some innate talent, his technique mirrored exactly how Shen Yan had kissed him earlier. Unprepared, Shen Yan struggled to breathe, forced to part his lips and yield as Wen Xiuran’s tongue plunged in without restraint.
When Wen Xiuran finally pulled away, Shen Yan gasped for air, only for the alpha to loom over him again, biting down hard on his lip.
Shen Yan cursed inwardly.
He lifted a leg and draped it over Wen Xiuran’s shoulder, pulling him closer until their noses brushed. With a faint smirk, he murmured, “How about we move to the bed? This isn’t exactly comfortable.”
Wen Xiuran responded by licking Shen Yan’s cheek. Despite the overwhelming scent of peaches in the air, his alpha instincts left him unsettled. This wasn’t his home, there was no place for him to mark, and his mate carried none of his scent.
Frowning, he stripped off his own clothes and draped them around Shen Yan, completely ignoring the question.
Shen Yan clicked his tongue impatiently. Wen Xiuran was clearly an inexperienced brat—clueless, unskilled, and utterly uncooperative, acting solely on instinct. Shen Yan hated partners who lacked finesse, and at this rate, he doubted he’d be the one on top. Worse, he might even get hurt.
The thought filled him with sudden regret—though he wasn’t sure exactly what he regretted. Was it provoking Wen Xiuran? Or drugging him? Shen Yan realized he wasn’t getting the physical satisfaction he’d anticipated. Instead, an inexplicable sense of irritation and unease weighed on him.
Annoyed, he kicked Wen Xiuran square in the chest. The alpha, who had been arranging his clothes, looked up in surprise but the expression quickly melted back into lust.
“I’m done playing,” Shen Yan spat, each word icy and forced through gritted teeth. “Have fun by yourself.”
With that, he pushed off the door and turned to leave.
The door creaked sharply in the silent air.
An arm silently reached out from behind Shen Yan, swiftly and firmly wrapping around his waist. Wen Xiuran effortlessly lifted Shen Yan with one hand.
Shen Yan was startled by the sudden movement, his eyes widening in shock. Just as he was about to yell in anger, he found himself being thrown onto the soft bed with a steady force. His body bounced slightly from the mattress’s elasticity before settling, a wave of dizziness washing over him.
Next, a shirt still warm with body heat was tossed by Wen Xiuran, abruptly covering Shen Yan’s face. The lingering scent of Wen Xiuran instantly enveloped him. A complex mix of masculine hormones and a faint hint of peach. Caught off guard, Shen Yan couldn’t help but freeze momentarily.
Wen Xiuran stood by the bed, his clothing now reduced to mere scraps clinging tightly to his muscular frame. He was the epitome of “lean in clothes, buff underneath,” the contours of his muscles beneath the fabric drawing Shen Yan’s gaze involuntarily, stirring complicated emotions within him.
This was no longer about sleeping with Wen Xiuran. Shen Yan’s throat moved slightly as he leaned back warily, a hint of fear creeping in.
Wen Xiuran sat on the bed as well, inching closer to Shen Yan, his arms braced on either side of him as he leaned down. His voice carried an indescribable emotion as he asked, “In a hurry?”
Suddenly, his veined hands—hard as forged iron—clamped around Shen Yan’s slender neck.
Wen Xiuran had always held back his strength around Shen Yan, but now, he seemed to lose control. The beta beneath him, paralyzed by sheer terror, was helpless as Wen Xiuran flipped him over. Wen Xiuran’s nostrils flared rapidly, his heavy breaths echoing in the air. He leaned forward, exhaling against the nearly imperceptible gland on Shen Yan’s neck before sinking his teeth in.
His fangs pierced deep into Shen Yan’s skin, causing the beta beneath him to tremble violently in pain, cold sweat breaking out all over. Yet Wen Xiuran, as if possessed, relentlessly pumped pheromones into him, his bite growing tighter and tighter.
Once the pheromones were fully injected, he finally seemed to achieve his goal, slowly releasing Shen Yan, who had gone limp and powerless. The burning desire in Wen Xiuran’s eyes remained undiminished as he eagerly flipped Shen Yan onto his back again.
Gently, he cupped Shen Yan’s face as though handling a rare treasure, then leaned down to press tender kisses—starting from the smooth forehead, trailing down the delicate bridge of his nose, lingering on the soft pink cheeks, each kiss searing and meticulous. His lips gradually descended further, wandering to the graceful curve of Shen Yan’s neck, showering the elegant collarbones with rain-like kisses, each one brimming with insatiable longing.
________________________________________
Pain.
Every inch of his body ached.
That was the only clear sensation in Shen Yan’s mind as his thoughts slowly returned. The pain felt like countless tiny needles piercing deep into every corner of his being. But it wasn’t just pain—he felt utterly drained, exhausted to the core. Even lifting a finger seemed an impossible task, as if weighed down by an immense burden.
Shen Yan unconsciously licked his dry, chapped lips, feeling as if he had reached the brink of death. His gaze was vacant and lifeless as he stared at the ceiling. The heavy curtains had long been tightly drawn, and with no ticking clock in the room, he couldn’t tell what time it was.
Wen Xiuran seemed to have discovered something utterly novel, tirelessly exploring without pause. Occasionally, he would stop only to sink his teeth sharply into Shen Yan’s neck. The air was thick with the cloying scent of peaches, making Shen Yan’s head spin as if he were drowning in sickly-sweet peach wine, suffocating.
At the beginning, Shen Yan had cursed in agony, even resisting with all his might. But later, realizing his struggles were futile, he had resorted to pleading in a broken voice.
Yet Wen Xiuran merely licked away his tears gently, pretending not to hear or see, continuing relentlessly, driven by the primal instincts of an alpha.
The dim room was steeped in an ambiguous yet tense atmosphere, oppressive and stifling.
“I need water,” Shen Yan forced out, each word labored. “I’m dying of thirst.” His voice was hoarse and weak, as if scraped from the depths of his parched throat.
Hearing this, Wen Xiuran slowly lifted his head from Shen Yan’s collarbone, tilting his head as his dazed eyes fixed on Shen Yan’s lips, like a drunkard struggling to process the words.
After a long pause, Shen Yan finally saw Wen Xiuran nod slightly before sluggishly climbing off the bed to fetch water.
The moment Wen Xiuran turned away, Shen Yan gritted his teeth and rolled off the opposite side of the bed. Ignoring the pain wracking his body, he lunged desperately toward the door—only to trip violently over the rug and crash to the floor.
The sound of rapid footsteps suddenly echoed behind him, and an alpha’s oppressive voice loomed overhead: “Trying to run?”
Shen Yan’s heart plummeted into an icy abyss.
He scrambled frantically to get up, but Wen Xiuran’s iron grip seized his ankle, dragging him ruthlessly toward the floor-to-ceiling window.
Overwhelming terror surged over him like a tidal wave, nearly wrenching a scream from his throat. But all he could do was watch helplessly as the door to freedom grew farther away, despair clinging to him like a shadow.
Wen Xiuran’s expression darkened as if storm clouds had gathered, fury burning in his eyes.
He raised the glass of water in his hand and poured it straight onto the floor. Then, without a flicker of emotion, he hurled the glass aside, where it shattered against the ground with a piercing crash.
“You’ve regained your senses now, haven’t you?” Shen Yan’s eyes reddened as if grasping at a lifeline. “I was wrong—I was really wrong. Just let me go, please?”
Wen Xiuran paused before replying coldly, “No.”
Each word struck Shen Yan’s heart like a hammer, sending it sinking deeper. Fear spread through him like creeping frost.
The other man had always despised him—so why was he forcing this upon him? Yes, Shen Yan had made mistakes, but hadn’t he suffered enough?
Wen Xiuran walked to the bedside and picked up the drugged wine glass.
Shen Yan closed his eyes as if resigned to his fate. The occasional wisp of breeze drifting in through the window did nothing to dispel the chill in his heart.
Wen Xiuran poured the remaining liquor into two glasses under Shen Yan’s utterly despairing gaze, then elegantly downed one of them in a single, graceful motion.
The alpha slowly strode toward Shen Yan, the carpet beneath his feet sinking slightly with each step.
When Wen Xiuran stood before him, he placed the brimming glass in front of the beta and commanded, “Drink.” The cold walls around them seemed to press in on Shen Yan inch by inch, each breath growing heavier and more labored.
At this moment, Shen Yan felt as though the entire world was collapsing and there was nowhere left to run.