Kaein slept fitfully, the hum of the city outside fading into a distant white noise. The apartment was dark, except for the faint glow of streetlights through the curtains. His mind was half-dreaming, wandering through memories of Lior's scent—gardenia, sweet and grounding—and the warmth of his body pressed close in his arms. For a moment, he let himself drift, safe in that imagined closeness.
The shrill ring of his phone cut through the quiet. His eyes flew open, heart pounding. The caller ID was the local police department.
"Kaein?" a firm voice spoke. "We… need your expertise. It's urgent. There's been a development in the Elian case. We need you at the station immediately."
Kaein swung his legs out of bed, rubbing his eyes. His mind struggled to wake, the remnants of sleep and the pull of his Alpha instincts mixing in confusion. "I—I'll be there," he muttered, grabbing a coat and shoes, all the while wondering why the call came now.
He didn't know that at the same moment, Lior's plane had touched down miles away. The Lunar pilot had been planning to surprise Kaein, but a subtle, awfully alluring pheromone tickled his senses as soon as he stepped out of the terminal. Something was wrong. It was not a normal Alpha heat, not a friendly presence—it was sharp, dangerous, intentional.
Instinct guided Lior silently through the streets, every step measured. Near their apartment, he saw him: a man crouched low, shoveling dirt, the pungent metallic tang of blood and decay mixing with his own senses. His eyes locked onto the intruder—Elian. A predator masked by the night, hiding behind a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
The Lunar strength within Lior surged. He approached with silent precision, shadow merging with shadow. Before Elian could react, Lior had him restrained, pheromones flaring subtly—dominance without aggression, warning without force. "Move," Lior whispered, voice low, carrying that weight only Alpha and Lunar could feel. Elian froze, eyes widening, smirk faltering under the potent Lunar aura.
Minutes later, the police arrived, called by a passerby who saw Lior detain the man. Lior handed over Elian, then, as witness, agreed to accompany them to the station.
Meanwhile, Kaein arrived, heart still thumping from sudden wakefulness. He had no idea that Lior was already nearby. As he entered the station, he froze. There, across the room, Lior stood tall, arms folded, aura radiating calm dominance. And between them, Elian glared, smirk twisted into uneasy tension, clearly affected by Lior's presence.
"Kaein," Lior said softly, eyes briefly locking with his, a subtle reassurance amidst the chaos. "Everything's under control."
Kaein swallowed, blinking. The relief that flooded him was visceral. Even in the sterile station, the scent of Lior—gardenia mingled with something uniquely Lunar—washed over him, grounding him in a way nothing else could.
The counseling began. Elian, cocky and calculating, attempted his usual charm, a sociopath confident in manipulation. But Kaein, experienced and careful, steered the session deliberately. Pheromones flared subtly from him, calming yet commanding, guiding the dialogue, reading micro-expressions, controlling tone and space.
"You think you're untouchable," Kaein said softly, hypnotic cadence threading his words. "That smiling mask hides everything. But you can't hide from me. Not the truth. Not your compulsions. Not what you did to them."
Elian sneered, leaning back, confident at first. But as Kaein's presence wove around him—Alpha authority balanced with measured control—the cracks appeared. He flinched at subtle touches, hesitated at words that cut into his psyche, and the faint scent of reassurance mingled with dominance from Kaein, making the sociopath slightly pliable.
"Tell me," Kaein whispered, voice low, precise. "Where are they?"
Minutes passed in taut silence, the only sounds the scribble of notes and faint breaths. Finally, Elian's defenses broke. He named locations, revealed how he'd manipulated the police, and detailed his next intended victim.
By the time the police moved to secure the sites, Kaein was drained. Every word, every subtle control, every pheromonal nudge to break through the sociopath's mind had exacted a toll.
"You did well," Lior said quietly when Kaein finally stepped outside the interrogation room. His hand brushed Kaein's shoulder, grounding him. "Come home. You need to rest."
The drive back was a quiet reassurance. Kaein leaned into Lior's presence, inhaling deeply, the blend of gardenia and subtle Lunar dominance filling him with safety. "I… I can't believe you're here," he murmured.
"I promised," Lior said softly, voice low, throat brushing against Kaein's. "No matter what happens, I come back to you."
At their apartment, Kaein sank onto the couch, utterly spent. Lior followed, kneeling beside him, gathering him in a hug that radiated warmth, dominance, and care all at once. Fingers threaded through hair, hands stroking back, pheromones mingling—a silent communication of trust and possession.
"You need… rest," Lior murmured. "Let me take care of you tonight. I'll be gentle… but I won't let go of what's mine."
Kaein shivered, letting himself be pressed close, scent and warmth overwhelming his senses. "Yours… always yours," he whispered, voice trembling, body melting into the Lunar hold.
Lior leaned down, lips brushing Kaein's ear, down the neck, teasing, claiming, but careful. Every kiss, every soft nip, every lingering touch spoke of dominance tempered by love. Kaein's hands explored Lior, memorizing curves and muscles, yet the night was slow, deliberate, sensual, not a rush to release, but a deep intertwining of trust and desire.
"You're mine," Lior whispered, voice thick with the weight of promise. "And I'll always protect, claim, soothe. You don't need to fight your rut alone. Not tonight. Not ever."
Kaein pressed against him, inhaling, feeling the subtle pheromonal tether that bound them even without permanent marking. "I… I trust you," he breathed, body trembling under combined heat, love, and exhaustion. "Always… always yours."
The night stretched with whispered promises, soft moans, lingering touches. Lior's Lunar dominance wove around Kaein's Alpha rut like silk—claiming, soothing, holding, never smothering. Every kiss, every scent, every gentle pressure reassured, calmed, and ignited in turn.
By dawn, they were entwined, muscles relaxing, hearts beating slowly together. The pheromones lingered, a quiet signature of their bond. Kaein's exhaustion from the case, the hypnotic control of a dangerous sociopath, melted into warmth, love, and intimacy.
"I couldn't have… done it without you," Kaein murmured, brushing his lips against Lior's jawline, eyelids heavy.
"And you never will," Lior whispered, hand cradling Kaein's head. "I'm here. Always. Rut, chaos, danger… I'll always come back to you."
They remained like that for hours, the apartment still and safe, a haven after the storm. Even as the city woke outside, the lingering scent of their connection, gardenia and wisteria mingling with pheromonal dominance, reminded them: they were entwined, body and soul, ready to face whatever the world threw next.