"I came to help you, and yet here you are—rejecting me, telling me to leave. First our meal date, and now this..." Nikolai's smile stayed, but his eyes hardened under it, that mock-sweet calm making Lucien's irritation spike.
"Should I leave you like this, then?" he went on, tone smooth and venomous. "You're the one in a shitty state. Sure, I fucking love your scent—it's making me want to do all kinds of perverted things to you…" He paused, long enough for the images to crawl through Lucien's head, before adding, low and taunting, "...but I know how to deal with shit like this without needing drugs."
His voice cut through the haze—steady, amused, unfazed—and it made Lucien's blood boil hotter than his fever. Slowly, with every ounce of strength left in him, he raised his head. Lavender-grey eyes locked on silver. Fury burned in his chest like fire licking through his ribs.
Every breath felt like shards of glass tearing him apart. His body screamed to give in, to drop, but his pride—his stubborn, damn pride—kept him upright. He growled, his voice rough and venom-soaked."I wouldn't have made this mistake if I knew you were such a psycho pervert."
Nikolai's eyes curved, silver gleaming like slivers of moonlight. He adored that defiant tone, the way Lucien's fury burned so bright it almost looked holy. But underneath the amusement, another instinct simmered—an old, primal hunger to see that fire smothered, to see Lucien finally yield. If Lucien had known how to use his scent right, maybe their roles would've been reversed. But he didn't. And that sharp, pine-and-rain scent only made Nikolai's dominance pulse stronger.
He turned away, dragging a chair from the table, the sound scraping through the air. Sitting down, he slouched back with his legs spread wide, unashamed, the bulge in his pants almost a taunt."It's your call, Lucien," he said smoothly. "You're not getting those pills for free. We're under contract, remember? You owe me. Though…" His grin widened. "In this situation, I'm not accepting money."
Lucien hated that look.
God, he wanted to launch himself at him—wrap his hands around that smug throat, slam his skull into the floor until that silver-eyed calm shattered into blood. But those words—mocking, cold, too damn close to the truth—hit harder than any punch. His nails dug into his palms, knuckles white, the tremor in his body a mix of fury and something far uglier.
And in that fever haze, a darker realization crawled through him like ice water. Those eyes. That voice. The way the air itself seemed to bend around him.This wasn't just some twisted asshole getting off on power.
This wasn't just some perverted bastard. This was the big bad wolf.
The one pulling the strings of that golden hellhole where Lucien had been bound, shackled, humiliated. His stomach dropped, lips trembling, pressed tight to stop their shaking. And still—his scent. That was why this monster was here. That was the only reason. The air was thick with it, cloying, uncontrollable, reeking of weakness he never asked for. Nikolai's interest, his presence—it was all because of that damn scent. Because this man wanted him.
The bulge he'd felt earlier told him enough. The realization made Lucien sick. Heat flushed his face—rage, fever, disgust all tangled into one.
There's no way he actually wants to sleep with me… right?
The thought alone twisted his gut, made his jaw clench so hard his teeth ached. But he had to decide. His instincts screamed not to bend, not to give in to this man of all people. Yet he wasn't blind—he'd seen the executions, the games, the ruthlessness. He knew just how slimy and merciless this bastard could be.
So Lucien forced his battered body to obey. Step by step, unsteady but unbroken, he pushed himself upright. His lavender-grey eyes, bloodshot and smoky, locked on those steel-grey ones with sheer defiance.
One would think that the way Lucien approached him was of a dangerous creature, but to Nikolai he felt mesmerized. The sweat glistening off the other male, the staggering breaths, face flushed with different mixtures of emotions battling between desire and abhorrence. It was a beautiful sight to take in. This is what he wanted. Even if there was reluctance, hesitancy with every move, obedience was obedience.
The lure he casted was successfully caught by this feral kitten, hooked, lined, and sunk.
Lucien closed the distance, shoving himself between Nikolai's legs, gripping the counter behind him for balance as his breath came hot and ragged against Nikolai's lips.
Nikolai's silver hues twinkled in glee as Lucien initiated physical contact, his body roaring in triumph.
"Then what do I have to do?" Lucien rasped, each word dripping venom despite the weakness in his body. "Sign another fucked-up contract?" His gaze flicked downward, sharp and deliberate, lingering on the bulge that mocked him. A cruel little smirk tugged at his fevered lips.
The way those lavender tinted eyes dragged downwards, Nikolai followed suit, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk as it dawned on him where Lucien's attentiveness was at.
"Or… hah… are you expecting a blowjob?" Lucien's tone was low, dangerous, daring.
An image of those plump lips wrapped around him, caused Nikolai's cock to pulsate and throb, straining against the fabric of his pants in response. "How considerate of you to offer…if we were in different circumstances I would have taken you up on that-"
"Heh- but If I were you, I wouldn't." Lucien quickly interjected, looking like he couldn't care less, but the truth was written in the tremble of his arms, the way his knees almost buckled beneath him.
Nikolai's eyes narrowed, giving his signature flirty smile, "...Lucky for you princess, I don't mind a little teeth."
Lucien let out a choked scoff, low and bitter, his lips curling into something between a sneer and a laugh, his gaze flickering again to Nikolai's bulge before meeting that burning gaze and flirty smile. "Of course you don't mind teeth… figures," he rasped, sarcasm biting even as his voice shook. But the words rang hollow against his own body betraying him.
Desperation cracked through his act at last. His hand shot up, tangling in Nikolai's hair, tugging hard enough to drag those steel eyes right in to his own.
Nikolai didn't resist—he leaned into the pull. A low, guttural sound slipped from his throat, somewhere between pain and pleasure, the tension at the roots of his hair sparking like electricity down his spine until it coiled hot in his gut.
The sound hit Lucien like a live wire. That rough, breathless grunt—raw and unguarded—tore through him before he could brace for it. Heat pooled low in his abdomen, his pulse stuttering as his breath came uneven, lips parting in shallow, betraying gasps. His knees felt weak. His gaze, heavy and unwilling, dragged downward, catching every subtle twitch, every shift of muscle, as though drawn by some unseen gravity he despised and couldn't defy.
"What is the way you were talking about?" Lucien hissed, his lip trembling as his pride fought with the plea choking out of him. "…without drugs. I need it." For a moment, he faltered—his voice dropping to something almost broken. "…Please."
Nikolai took in that broken form, that bite mark claiming his feral kitten.
His hands travelled alongside the outside of Lucien's legs, trailing upwards until they rested on his thighs. With subtle pressure, his thumbs rubbed circles against the pelvic bone while the rest of his fingers dug into the fabric of Lucien's pants anchoring him above Nikolai.
Lucien felt those hands, Then came those hands—sliding up his legs, settling on his thighs, pressing into his hips.
"What you're experiencing is what…we normally call a heat or rut. A biological occurrence…kind of similar to what animals go through."
Lucien's chest heaved, his skin prickling so hard it felt unbearable. He skillfully used one hand to un button his cotton shirt, letting it hang off his shoulder. The cold air felt better but the heat was still there. He swallowed, throat working tight as his fingers clenched in Nikolai's shoulders. That floral sweetness, that maddeningly clean scent—it wasn't perfume. It couldn't be. The way it wrapped around his senses, bending him against his own will—it was like poison and paradise fused into one.
Fuck… what the hell is he doing to me? And then, those words. Calm, serious, clinical even—about heat, about rut, about biology. For a moment Lucien's defiance faltered, his brows pinching, lips trembling. He didn't want to believe it, but… God, every inch of his body screamed that something unnatural was happening.
Never once did Nikolai's connected gaze with Lucien ever falter, rather he wanted to make sure that Lucien had their attention on him at all times as his scent wrapped around him. "And just like them…" his fingers then curled for a better grip, his arms tugging the other male's lower half towards him, his face merely inches away from Lucien's crotch. "We relieve those symptoms through sexual and emotional release." Leaning forward, Nikolai's teeth caught the man's pant's button pulling it open first and then the zipper, fluidly sliding the metal piece down with his eyes still locked with theirs.