Rin was losing his mind.
That was the only thought that stayed with him as Dominic's pheromones flooded the room—thick, suffocating, crushing down on his senses until breathing felt like drowning. The suppressants were gone. He knew it the moment his chest tightened and heat tore through his veins like wildfire. Whatever fragile barrier they had built inside him shattered completely.
His scent spilled out unchecked.
It wasn't a gentle release. It was violent, desperate, and wrong—his body screaming a truth he had spent years burying. The air changed instantly, heavy with something unmistakably him, something raw and exposed that made his stomach twist in terror.
Rin's thoughts fractured.
His head throbbed viciously, each heartbeat echoing behind his eyes. The room tilted. His vision blurred at the edges, dark spots blooming as his body betrayed him piece by piece. Heat coiled low in his stomach, sharp and relentless, tightening until it hurt to breathe.
No. No—
He tried to move, to pull away, but there was nothing left in him. Every attempt felt like dragging himself through water, his limbs heavy and unresponsive. Even turning his head took everything he had, his muscles trembling violently as exhaustion clawed at him.
Dominic moved closer.
Rin felt it before he fully registered it—the shift in air, the oppressive closeness, the way Dominic's presence loomed over him like a shadow ready to swallow him whole. Panic surged, hot and choking.
Please, Rin prayed silently, the word breaking apart in his mind. Anyone. Please.
His thoughts tangled, slipping through his grasp like smoke. He tried to hold on to something—anything—but the haze thickened, pulling him under. Consciousness wavered, flickering like a dying flame.
He was slipping.
Then—
A sound exploded through the room.
Rin barely registered it.
The door bursting open felt distant, muffled, as if it belonged to another world entirely. He was too focused on forcing his mind to stay awake, too consumed by the fight to keep himself present. The pressure on his chin vanished suddenly, and for a fraction of a second, confusion replaced fear.
The suffocating pheromones disappeared.
Not faded—erased.
In their place came something else.
Warm. Grounded. Familiar.
Tobacco.
Rin sucked in a shaky breath, his lungs burning as the scent wrapped around him like an anchor. His vision cleared just enough for the room to snap back into focus, reality slamming into him all at once.
He lifted his head.
And there he was.
Kael.
The man Rin had been thinking about endlessly through the haze and pain, the man he had begged for in his thoughts without even realizing it. Kael stood in front of him like something unreal, his presence filling the room with quiet, lethal authority.
Rin's breath hitched.
His vision blurred again, tears welling before he could stop them. His body finally gave up the fight, relief crashing into him so hard it hurt. When Kael spoke—his voice low, steady, unmistakably him—something inside Rin broke.
The tears fell.
He didn't remember the last time he had cried. He didn't remember allowing himself this kind of weakness. But standing there, bound and broken, with Kael's gaze fixed on him like he was the only thing that mattered, Rin couldn't hold it in anymore.
Tears slid down his cheeks, hot and silent, carrying everything with them—the fear, the terror of what almost happened, the crushing thought of what would have occurred if no one had come.
If Kael hadn't come.
Rin let himself cry.
For once, he didn't stop it. He didn't hide. He didn't force himself back into control. He just sat there, shaking, tears falling freely as the weight of it all finally began to lift.
He was no longer alone.
And for the first time since waking in this room, Rin knew—truly knew—that he was going to survive this.