The morning came quietly.
Kaein woke with his cheek still pressed to Lior's hoodie, the faint threads of gardenia scent clinging to the pillow like a lifeline. He breathed deeply, as if inhaling strength itself, before rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. The apartment felt too large, too empty.
He dragged himself out of bed, dressing carefully, each motion slow, deliberate. On his wrist he dabbed the faintest trace of Lior's scent inhibitor balm—not to hide his Alpha pheromones, but to keep them steady. His body felt restless, his instincts unsettled without his Lunar nearby.
"Two days," he whispered to the quiet. "Just two days. I can handle this."
Breakfast was rushed: coffee, barely buttered toast, and the silence of a home missing laughter. He paused by the cat, Witty, who blinked at him from the windowsill. Stroking her white fur, he murmured, "He'll come back soon. Until then, it's just us, little one."
Then came the call.
The phone rang with the urgency of work. His exclusive line, one only the police used.
"Professor Kaein," came the voice of Captain Deyron, clipped and heavy. "We need you at the station. It's urgent. Another body. Alpha territory killing again."
Kaein closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He had felt it in the city's undercurrent—the growing unease, the whispers in his lectures, the students' nervousness. The predator was still out there.
"I'll be there in thirty minutes."
---
The police station was chaos. Uniforms rushed between desks, papers scattered, pheromones heavy in the air like a storm. Alphas flared with irritation, Betas tried to ground them, and Omegas kept their distance.
Kaein entered quietly, his calm demeanor immediately shifting the room. His presence as Alpha could have sparked tension, but his control—and the faint trace of Lior's gardenia still clinging to him—soothed the space. Some glanced, whispering, as if sensing he was claimed.
Captain Deyron approached. A tall Beta, stern-faced, with streaks of grey in his hair. "Professor. We caught one. Dominator Alpha, violent tendencies. Fits the evidence."
Kaein frowned. "Fits the evidence, or fits what you want to see?"
Deyron's eyes narrowed. "You'll see for yourself. Come."
---
The interrogation room was cold.
Behind the glass sat a man—broad shoulders, heavy set jaw, his pheromones sharp and bitter. This was Suspect One, Valric : an Alpha with dominance that filled the small space. He smirked when Kaein entered, licking his teeth like a predator toying with prey.
"You're the shrink?" the man laughed. "They think I killed those Omegas, huh? Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. Who cares?"
Kaein sat, unflinching. His voice was calm, soft, almost too gentle for the sharpness in the room. "Tell me why you think you did."
The suspect leaned forward, chains rattling, eyes gleaming. "Because I'm stronger. Because I can. Because that's what we do, right? Alphas take what they want."
Kaein tilted his head. He saw it immediately—the delusion. The narcissistic pattern. Not a calculated killer, but a man who needed to believe he was dangerous. His pheromones were aggressive, yes, but his behavior? Disorganized. Erratic. He wasn't clever enough to orchestrate what had been happening.
"You're not the one," Kaein murmured.
Deyron, listening through the earpiece, hissed, "Don't start this, Professor. We have evidence. The knife. The pheromone traces."
Kaein didn't look away from the man across him. "He wants to believe he's a monster. But monsters don't brag like this. Monsters don't leave trails. He's not our killer. He's a decoy."
The suspect slammed his fists against the table, grinning wide. "See? He gets it! I'm not even the best monster here."
Kaein's blood ran cold.
It wasn't a confession. It was a breadcrumb. Someone else was moving the pieces.
---
Meanwhile, thirty thousand feet above the ground, Lior adjusted the controls of his aircraft. The flight had been smooth for most of the night, passengers asleep, the moon glinting faintly against the wings. But then the warning lights blinked red.
"Engine pressure drop," his co-pilot stammered.
Lior's hands tightened on the controls, his calm voice cutting through panic. "Check auxiliary feed. Reroute. Keep steady."
The hum of the plane changed pitch. A groan of metal. The cabin trembled. Passengers stirred, murmuring, panic beginning to rise.
Inside, Lior's heart pounded—but his thoughts weren't on the machine. They were on Kaein. On the apartment. On the hoodie left behind, carrying his scent.
If I don't make it back…
The thought stabbed deeper than fear itself.
What would he do? How could he carry on? No. No, I can't let that happen. I have to return. He's waiting for me.
"I can't die here," Lior muttered under his breath. "Not when he's waiting for me at home."
The plane dipped, stomachs lurched. Alarms wailed from the cockpit. Flight attendants shouted instructions, their own fear barely masked.
Lior unbuckled his belt, rising despite protests. His Lunar strength made him steady even as the cabin shook. He helped an elderly man secure his oxygen mask, steadied a mother with two children, then moved toward the attendants. "What do you need?" he asked.
Their wide eyes flicked to his presence—solid, calm, commanding. They pointed toward the rear, where a panel had torn loose, sparks hissing dangerously. Without hesitation, Lior pressed it back, bracing himself as the plane rattled. His muscles screamed, but he held, grounding the shaking metal until the crew secured it.
When the pilot finally announced an emergency descent, Lior exhaled hard. They weren't safe yet. But they had a chance.
And for him, a chance was enough.
With Lunar strength, his body steady beyond human limits, he pulled the controls, commanding the plane with precision. His voice steadied the crew, soothed the passengers, even as alarms screamed. Slowly, painfully, the shaking subsided. The plane leveled.
"Stabilized," the co-pilot whispered, trembling.
But Lior only exhaled once. His knuckles stayed white on the controls. "We're not safe until we land."
---
Back in the station, Kaein stood against the glass, arms folded. Another prisoner had been brought in.
This one smiled.
A Beta by classification. Average build. Harmless appearance. His pheromones were faint, almost pleasant, like spring grass. He waved cheerfully at the officers, joked lightly, asked for tea.
Kaein watched him, unease crawling up his spine. This man wasn't nervous. He wasn't defensive. He was… waiting.
Captain Deyron muttered, "That's Elian. Picked up near the scene. Witness, maybe."
Kaein's eyes narrowed. Elian. Harmless façade. Pheromones muted, almost rehearsed.
But behind the smile—Kaein saw it.
A glint in the eyes. Calculating. Hungry. Enjoying the stage.
He stepped closer, voice sharp. "That's him."
The room fell silent.
Officers exchanged doubtful glances. "Professor, he's just a Beta."
"No," Kaein said firmly, his Alpha voice low, dangerous. "That man isn't weak. He's masking. He's watching us, deciding his next move. He's the one."
Elian's smile widened. He looked straight at Kaein through the glass, tilting his head like a curious child. Then, slowly, he winked.
Kaein's pulse spiked. His instincts screamed. The true sociopath had just chosen him.
Elian was watching everything—the officers, the suspects, even Kaein himself.
And when their eyes met, Elian's smile widened, as though amused that someone had finally noticed the mask.
---
At the bureau, Kaein sat across from Valaric. The man's eyes darted wildly, his words a jumble of strength, killing, dominance. But underneath it, Kaein heard desperation—an Alpha trying to believe his own lie.
"You think you killed them," Kaein said softly. "But when you close your eyes, do you see their faces? Do you remember the last breath? The scream? Or just the idea of it?"
Valaric's jaw worked, but no answer came. Sweat beaded at his temple. He trembled.
Kaein leaned back. "You didn't kill them. You wanted to. You imagined it. But someone else made it real, then fed you the lie until you believed it."
The guards shifted uncomfortably. Rhovan crossed his arms. "Professor, enough games."
But Kaein didn't move. His gaze flicked once more to Elian Vale, who now leaned casually against the wall, still smiling, still sipping his tea. Their eyes met again.
Elian tilted his head, mouthing silently: Clever.
Kaein's pulse spiked.
This wasn't just a killer. This was someone who enjoyed the hunt, someone who wanted him to notice.
---
At the bureau, Kaein's warning fell on deaf ears. The officers celebrated the capture of Valaric, convinced the case was closed. Files signed, evidence logged, relief spreading like wildfire.
But Kaein couldn't shake the weight in his chest.
Because Elian Vale wasn't gone. He lingered, still smiling, still watching. And Kaein knew—this was only the beginning.
That night, the apartment felt emptier than ever.
Kaein returned exhausted, the weight of doubt pressing on him. The police still held the Dominator Alpha, ignoring his warnings. Elian had been released, "not enough evidence."
He paced the living room, pheromones restless, sharp with frustration. Witty meowed, winding around his legs. He bent to lift her, burying his face in her fur, trying to breathe.
But it wasn't enough.
The apartment reeked of absence.
He went to the closet, pulled down one of Lior's jackets, and wrapped it around himself. The gardenia scent enveloped him, soothing, claiming, grounding. He curled on the bed with the jacket pressed tight to his chest, heart aching.
"Come back soon," he whispered into the empty room. "I can't fight this world without you."
---
High above, Lior guided the damaged plane through turbulent skies. His body was exhausted, his mind stretched thin—but the image of Kaein waiting at home carried him forward.
He whispered to the silent cabin, a prayer only the stars could hear:
"Hold on for me, beloved. I'll come back to you. Always."
And somewhere, even through absence, Kaein stirred, clutching the jacket tighter, as if hearing the promise carried across the distance.
The night closed in.
One facing shadows in the city.
The other steering through storm and steel.
Both hearts tethered.
Both waiting for the moment absence would end.