The sight of Kyon unbuckling his belt was the final, crushing blow to Arion's pride. His body trembled, not just from the heat, but from the raw, humiliating need that was about to be met. His mind screamed in protest, but his body was on its knees, begging for the very thing his alpha instincts railed against. He was a warrior, a Lord of the North, and he was about to be taken like a common omega.
But as Kyon stepped closer, the triumphant smirk on his face softened. The golden glow in his eyes faded, replaced by a flicker of what looked like… regret? Kyon's hand went from his belt and moved to the small, hidden satchel he always carried. He pulled out a small, corked vial filled with a shimmering, clear liquid. It was a potent, concentrated dose of omega suppressant, far more powerful than the ones he used on himself.
Kyon knelt, bringing the vial to his own lips. He took a long, deep drink, his gaze fixed on Arion's trembling form. Arion watched, confused, his mind too clouded by heat to comprehend what was happening. Was this some new form of torture?
Kyon then leaned in, his face close to Arion's, his scent of burning amber a powerful, intoxicating presence. Arion's breath hitched, his body arching forward in a desperate, animalistic plea. He expected a kiss of possession, a rough, brutal claim. Instead, Kyon's lips met his with a tenderness that was so unexpected it stole what little air was left in his lungs.
The kiss was gentle at first, a soft press of lips. Then, Kyon tilted his head, deepening the contact. Arion could taste the bitter, medicinal tang of the suppressant on Kyon's tongue, a stark contrast to the overpowering sweetness of his own scent. Kyon began to feed the liquid to him, a slow, patient exchange of bitter medicine. Arion swallowed, the taste a strange, foreign invader in his mouth, but his body, craving anything from his Alpha, accepted it without question.
The bitter liquid was a shock to his system. He could feel it coursing through his veins, the fiery heat of his marks dimming, the overwhelming need in his gut slowly subsiding. The roaring in his ears became a low hum, his body relaxing as the powerful suppressant took hold. The feeling of shame and humiliation began to fade, replaced by a deep, profound exhaustion.
Kyon pulled back, his eyes now back to their placid, cool blue. "Sleep, my lord," he whispered, his voice soft, almost regretful. "Rest now. You have much to learn."
As Kyon spoke, the darkness began to swallow Arion. The last thing he saw before his eyelids grew too heavy to fight was Kyon's face, no longer arrogant or cruel, but etched with a deep, private sadness. Kyon then moved to pick Arion up from the floor, and Arion felt himself being lifted into a pair of impossibly strong arms before he finally succumbed to the darkness, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.