Chapter 4
Standing before the mansion, I realized there wasn't a soul in sight. The entire place looked deserted, eerily quiet. Was his rut truly that dangerous? Dangerous enough that even the staff had all disappeared?
What if thieves walked in? Or worse?
Still feeling sore and slightly feverish, I stepped in cautiously, letting the large double doors close behind me with a heavy thud. The silence was suffocating. I wandered aimlessly through the luxurious corridors, the faint echo of my heels clicking against the marble floor my only companion.
I lost count of how many rooms I passed—each one grand, cold, and empty.
"What's the use of a mansion this massive when most of the rooms are untouched?" I muttered, frustration building as I rubbed my aching temple. My body wasn't strong enough for this much walking, not in these shoes and certainly not while still recovering.
Then I saw it—an elevator, tucked behind an arched wall near the seventh room.
Seriously? I'd been dragging my exhausted body up the stairs like a fool and there was an elevator the entire time?
I stepped into it with a sigh, letting the cold air wash over me. But something shifted as I ascended. The air... it wasn't just cold—it was thin, like something heavy was pressing down on it. My chest tightened. A strange pressure swirled around me, so strong it felt like it was suppressing even the oxygen in the atmosphere.
When the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, I stepped into a hallway that looked darker than the others. My body suddenly felt warmer. At first, I thought it was my illness acting up, but then... that itch started again.
That gland area.
No... this wasn't normal. My instincts flared. This had to be connected to the pheromones... to him.
Fingers trembling, I reached for the keypad beside the large double doors. I typed in the password I'd memorized and slowly pushed the door open.
Darkness welcomed me.
A rich, intoxicating scent flooded out—sharp, spicy, minty, yet heavy like some forbidden wine. It clung to everything. I stumbled back slightly, breath hitching as I tried to see through the shadows. But I barely took a step before something slammed into me—
A hand.
Big. Strong. Calloused.
Wrapped tightly around my neck.
I choked. My body reacted instantly, my own pheromones releasing in defense. That familiar wine-like scent of mine filled the room, sweet and dizzying. The grip loosened, just slightly, enough for me to breathe, but not escape.
My lungs burned, my heartbeat thudded in my ears.
Then came a voice, low and dark like thunder rumbling under the earth.
"Behave."
The sound of it sent heat rushing to my cheeks. Even though I was terrified, that voice alone could make anyone shudder—deeper than any octave I'd ever heard.
Before I could react, the world tilted beneath me. My back hit the mattress, my hands trembling as fear slammed into my chest.
"N-No! I didn't come here for this. I just... I just need a mark. A temporary one. Then I'll disappear, you won't see me again—ever."
I couldn't tell if he heard me. I couldn't even see his face. Only darkness. His silence was deafening.
Then came a sudden pull—fingers gripping my waist roughly, warning me.
"Behave," he repeated, this time deeper, more dangerous, almost animalistic.
My body trembled. I knew I was in danger, yet my pheromones kept pouring out involuntarily. I was triggering him. Making things worse.
Then I felt it.
That unmistakable bulge pressing into me. Even without seeing, I knew it was enormous—too enormous. He was aroused. And from the intimidating pressure of his body, I knew exactly what kind of size I was dealing with.
He spoke again, voice like ice brushing my skin.
"Who sent you?"
"N-No one!" I stammered, trying not to shake. "I-I have Black Death Syndrome... It's killing me. But I read that Enigma pheromones and a temporary mark could suppress it. I'm not lying—this wasn't about seduction or anything—I'm not here to trap you!"
But he didn't believe me.
"Liar. Enigmas are myths."
His breath was hot against my neck, sending goosebumps up my arms. His hair—long, thick, and strange—tickled my skin, brushing places it shouldn't.
And then... his hand slipped between my thighs.
I yelped and clenched my legs shut, breathing hard.
"I've been watching your family for years," he muttered. "I knew something was different about you. I figured it out."
His words made my stomach sink.
Was it because of the alpha but a female stuff? I thought to myself.
"I... I'm not a threat, I swear..." I tried to laugh, nervously, desperately, hoping to break the tension. "If I wanted to harm you, I wouldn't walk right into your den…"
His voice came again—quiet, dangerous.
"Do you think I'm generous?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
Then I felt it.
Something cold and wet sliding along my ear—his tongue.
But it wasn't normal. It was too long. Slippery. Serpentine.
I froze, drenched in cold sweat, though the air conditioner was on full blast. I was suffocating in his scent, in fear, in tension. Every instinct screamed at me to run.
But he was already above me. He pinned both my wrists to the mattress with one hand.
"I... I'm not ready! Please... I'm not— I'm not even a girl!" My words stumbled from my lips, breathless and panicked. "Wait... Please, wait…"
But he didn't wait.
No matter how much I squirmed, or begged, he didn't stop. I was completely overpowered, like a ragdoll in the arms of a beast. My wrists were tied to the bedframe in one swift motion. My legs trembled as something much too large pressed against me.
"Can something that big really fit inside this body?" the thought horrified me.
There was no pleasure, only pain. Pain and shame. I couldn't even cry. My breath kept catching, my heart aching more than my body. It felt like I was being broken apart—not just physically, but mentally.
And just before the darkness claimed me—
I fainted.