Julian was a living contradiction: his mind was still screaming defiance, yet his body was pressed flat and compliant against the cold, unyielding glass wall. The pervasive scent of the Enigma Alpha was a continuous, dense pressure, physically restraining him more effectively than any chain. He could feel the desperate, failing attempts of his own Alpha pheromones to resurface, only to be crushed again and again by the absolute supremacy radiating from Elias.
Elias remained close, dominating the available space. He did not rush, treating the next minutes not as an act of passion, but as a calculated, final act of biological re-coding. Every second was measured, allowing the full weight of the humiliation and the profound, terrifying relief of submission to settle over Julian.
"Your internal resistance is exhausting, mate," Elias murmured, his face inches from Julian's, his breath a warm, ironic contradiction to the coldness of his intent. "I will simplify the equation. You will find that security is superior to freedom."
The kiss was the signature of this decree—a ruthless, thorough invasion. Elias's mouth was firm, his tongue demanding access, overwhelming Julian's senses with the raw, metallic flavor of his command. Julian could taste not only the cold, mineral essence of the Enigma but also the sharp, involuntary craving that his own traitorous body was now manufacturing in response. The shame of that craving tore through his consciousness, only to be muted by the sheer, crushing intensity of the dominance.
When Elias broke the kiss, he held Julian's gaze, allowing the younger Alpha to register the utter defeat in his own reflection. Julian's pupils were dark, dilated by the scent, reflecting the city lights like shattered shards of his former life.
Elias then moved to expose Julian, his hands slow, deliberate, and entirely devoid of heat. Julian's clothes were removed with surgical precision, pooling around his ankles. The sudden exposure to the cool air of the penthouse against the flushed, feverish skin of his arousal was a final, stunning humiliation. Julian was left pinned against the cold, indifferent glass, his internal Alpha screaming silent, futile obscenities.
Elias knelt, his height still imposing. "You are the high-risk variable, Julian," he stated, his voice low, resonating with a dangerous, ancient truth. "Your Alpha blood makes you both volatile and fertile. The Single-Mate bond requires this absolute proof of my ownership, before the world attempts to intervene."
Julian watched, terrified, as Elias's hand—large, powerful, and utterly assured—claimed his arousal. The touch was the electrical signature of the bond. It was cold, practiced, and immediately, overwhelmingly effective. The sensation was agonizingly intense, bypassing all thought, striking directly at the primitive core of Julian's nervous system. He could feel his body convulsing, his spine arching, every muscle demanding more of the powerful stimulus.
Elias worked with a slow, grinding expertise, using his hands and his presence to orchestrate a response that was pure, stripped submission. He leaned close, his scent glands releasing a potent, controlled surge of Enigma pheromones that hammered Julian into utter oblivion.
The cry that tore from Julian's throat was not one of defiance or passion; it was a sound of absolute, physical breakdown—a helpless surrender to the dominance that had extinguished his autonomy. He collapsed against the glass, slick with sweat and the heavy, sweet scent of biological defeat.
Elias stood, immaculate. He pulled the silk robe over Julian's trembling shoulders, covering the evidence but not the fact. He smoothed Julian's hair back, his touch cool and final. "You are saturated with my protection," he commanded, the word mate ringing with chilling certainty. "I have anchored you. You will be safe. And tomorrow, my son will smell the price of his negligence on your skin.