"Where did you find the audacity to follow me here for something like this?" Vincent asked. His voice revealed nothing, although it had dropped to a quieter register.
"I didn’t follow you here," Bryce replied. "I was invited for a job interview."
"If you’re here for an interview, then why are you questioning me about yourself?" Vincent’s brows drew together.
"Because I need to understand what’s happening to me. Whenever I’m close to you, it feels like..." Bryce began, only for Vincent to cut him off without allowing him to finish.
"Choose. The job," Vincent continued, "or answers."
The choice took Bryce completely by surprise because both mattered far too much for him to cast either aside.
One offered the answers he desperately needed about the inexplicable changes overtaking him, while the other was the opportunity he couldn’t afford to lose, especially now that he no longer had a place to return to.
Answers could wait- he thought.
As long as whatever was happening inside him wasn’t going to kill him, he could endure the uncertainty a little longer.
This opportunity, however, wouldn’t wait.
"...The job."
The answer escaped before he had fully decided upon it.
"Wrong choice." Vincent’s expression remained unmoved. "Because, unfortunately, I can’t allow you to work here. You may leave now."
"I really need this job, Vincent... please."
Vincent’s gaze sharpened toward him instantly, only then did Bryce realize what had slipped out of his mouth.
Vincent.
Not Mr. Walker.
Not Sir.
Just...
Vincent.
The name had come so naturally that he hadn’t even thought before saying it. It was as though something deep inside him had already accepted Vincent as someone impossibly familiar.
"What did you just call me?" Vincent asked.
"Sir..." Bryce muttered innocently.
Vincent dismissed the correction without another glance. Sliding both hands into his pockets, he forced himself to walk to the door with measured steps, his fingers repeatedly clenching and unclenching out of sight.
"You have one minute to find your way out of this building."
Even to Vincent, the order rang hollow.
He could have ended everything with a handful of words. He could have simply spoken his full name and declared, with absolute finality, that he rejected Bryce Jones as his mate.
The bond would shatter, he would be free of it forever, and there would never be another mate waiting for him.
In truth, what would he lose?
Even with Bryce as his mate, he couldn’t have an heir. By rejecting him now, he would lose nothing he hadn’t already lost.
Yet, instead of doing the one thing that would solve all of this, he was merely sending Bryce away while leaving the bond exactly as it was.
Before Vincent reached the door, Bryce caught his wrist.
The instant their skin met, heat surged through both of them like a violent current.
Vincent’s fingers curled tightly inside his pocket while his jaw locked so hard that the muscles along it stood out sharply beneath his skin.
Bryce wasn’t faring any better.
His hand trembled uncontrollably against Vincent’s wrist as he struggled to steady his breathing.
"If..." Bryce swallowed hard. "If you let me work here... I’ll make sure you never have to see me anywhere around."
Vincent frowned- Seeing him wasn’t the problem, his mere presence anywhere nearby was.
"I’ll also never tell anyone about what happened betwe..."
"Nothing happened."
Vincent’s voice cracked through the room with enough force to make Bryce flinch as he turned around abruptly.
Bryce forced himself to recover.
"If you have to know why I really need this job, it’s because..." he began, his voice noticeably quieter, "I don’t even have a place to live anymore because my psychotic boyfr..."
The words caught in his throat when he realized he was revealing considerably more than was necessary.
At the same time, he could have sworn he had seen Vincent’s eyes flash crimson before the color vanished so quickly that he questioned whether it had happened at all.
"Your what?"
Vincent’s voice had changed. It had sunk lower, carrying an edge Bryce couldn’t decipher.
With every word, Vincent advanced another step.
Bryce instinctively retreated until his back touched the wall, leaving him nowhere else to go.
"My... my parents found out I was gay, and they threw me out of the..."
"You want to play games with me?" Vincent interrupted, his voice deceptively quiet, though something beneath it churned with unmistakable volatility. "Tell me what you were about to say."
The distance between them disappeared completely.
Bryce’s pulse hammered against his ribs.
He no longer knew what demanded his attention more: the lie he had attempted to fabricate and had been caught in, the sudden shift in Vincent’s demeanor, or the unbearable craving rising inside him, urging him to erase the last fraction of space separating them.
Before reason could prevail, he rose onto his toes and pressed his lips against Vincent’s.
Vincent froze for the briefest fraction of a second before surrendering. He closed the remaining distance in a single step, pinning Bryce against the wall with his own body as he captured his lips in a fierce kiss.
He kissed Bryce with ravenous intensity, claiming his lower lip before moving to the upper, as though he had been deprived of him for far too long. The overwhelming passion coursing through Vincent sent a shudder racing through Bryce, who answered with equal intensity.
His hands wandered over Vincent’s body, tracing the hard definition beneath the fabric with an almost frantic need to rid him of every barrier separating them.
He parted his lips slightly, allowing Vincent’s tongue to slip into his mouth and delve deeper.
Vincent’s own hands slid beneath the waistband of Bryce’s pants, one palm settling possessively over the soft curve of his ass before pulling him even closer.
Their were bulges trapped firmly between them as Vincent began grinding against Bryce with almost absentminded abandon.
Unconscious moans slipped from their lips without them realizing it.
Vincent’s lips left Bryce’s and followed the path of his skin until they reached his neck.
His eyes had been closed, completely absorbed in the moment, but they flew open the instant his lips brushed against the place where he had marked Bryce, sending an unfamiliar sensation rush through him.
His gaze settled on the black and crimson mark adorning Bryce’s neck.
"Oh, Moon Goddess..." he whispered, the words escaping almost absentmindedly.
"Moon Goddess?" Bryce echoed, confusion unmistakable in his voice.
Vincent didn’t answer.
Instead, his fingertips drifted gently across the mark, recognition dawning almost instantly.
A moon.
Encircled by a crown.
The symbol was incomplete.
There was no mistaking what that meant.
The remaining half had to be on his own neck, one he had yet to notice.
It was his mark.
His own symbol.
For a long moment, Vincent couldn’t even decide what he was feeling.
Excitement.
Or conflict.
Every Alpha who found their true mate and fully settled the bond received a unique symbol, one recognized throughout every pack as the mark identifying both the Alpha and the mate, a symbol representing their authority and the power of ruling.
Vincent had watched countless Alphas wear theirs with pride, flaunting them without restraint.
Meanwhile, he had never possessed one with Leah.
Some marks shared similarities, but never once had he seen one resembling this.
"Do you see any mark on my neck?" Vincent asked, tugging his collar downwards.
Bryce leaned closer, "Yes," he answered. "It looks like one on my neck. I never got any tattoos... what does it mean?"
Before Vincent could answer, the door opened unexpectedly. Vincent reacted instantly, creating distance between them.
Even so, neither their disheveled appearance nor the charged tension between them could convince anyone who walked in that nothing had happened.