The hallway sounds vanished. Not just muffled - gone. No footsteps, no distant hum of lights or ventilation. The silence inside the room pressed in around him, tight and artificial. Ren's arms were still half-raised from when the guards let go of him, as if his body hadn't yet caught up to the fact that he was alone now.
Well. Not alone.
Luka was standing just a few steps away, his sleeves rolled as always, dark shirt crisp against pale skin, face unreadable.
There wasn't a single flicker of reaction. No awkwardness. No guilt. Not even surprise.
Ren's chest tightened.
"You knew," he said. His voice was hoarse - not from shouting, just from the sheer weight of everything pressing on his lungs. "Just say it. Say you knew."
Luka didn't answer.
Ren gave a short laugh, brittle as glass. "Of course you did. You didn't even flinch when they read my name."
Still nothing.
Ren's pulse kicked harder, and not from fear this time.
"Say something."
Luka inhaled, slow and deliberate. "I suspected."
Ren's fingers curled. "Since when?"
"A few months. Maybe more." Luka looked at him now - properly. No indifference. No scan-and-move-on glance. A real look. "Your playstyle changed. The way you paused between messages. What you said... or didn't say. I didn't recognize you out here. Not until they said your name. But in the game? I knew something didn't add up."
Ren took a half-step back, the motion instinctive. There wasn't much space. The room wasn't built for escape. It was built for containment.
"And you just... what? Claimed me? Volunteered to be my alpha?" His voice cracked on the word, bitter with disbelief. "What is this, some twisted romantic gesture? Surprise! It's me, your fake husband?"
"You weren't registered," Luka said. "I knew what would happen when they found you. It was only a matter of time."
"You could've stayed out of it."
Luka said nothing.
"You could've let them assign me to some stranger. At least then I wouldn't have to stand here, in a locked room, looking at you."
"That's exactly why I didn't."
Ren blinked.
"You think any of them would've cared?" Luka asked. "You think they'd ask before-"
"Before what?" Ren snapped. "Say it. Go on."
Luka didn't finish the sentence. His eyes were steady, but his jaw tensed.
A low hum kicked on overhead - some ventilation system, probably. Or a suppressant unit. Ren's skin was damp. His spine ached. And something else had shifted - subtle but real. A warmth pulsing low in his stomach. His body was reacting.
Suppressant patch: wearing off.
Of course Luka noticed.
Ren saw it in the way his gaze flicked to his neck, then back to his eyes. And this time, something stirred in Luka's expression. Not lust. Not hunger.
Restraint.
It was almost worse.
"There's a collar on the table," Luka said quietly. "It's local only. Not connected to the wider registry net. It'll help stabilize your hormone levels."
Ren didn't move.
"Wear it if you want. It's your choice."
"My choice?" Ren laughed under his breath. "I don't remember agreeing to any of this."
"You didn't."
"Exactly. So don't stand there pretending like you're doing me a favor."
"I'm not pretending anything," Luka said. "I'm trying to keep you from losing control."
"I had control," Ren hissed. "For four years. Alone. Hidden. Until you showed up."
The tension between them stretched tight and sharp.
Luka didn't argue.
He just turned away - a few paces, nothing dramatic. His shoulders rose slightly, then dropped again, as if whatever he was holding back threatened to come loose.
"I don't need your protection," Ren said, quieter now. "And I sure as hell don't need your pity."
Luka faced the wall. "I don't want your gratitude."
"Then what do you want?"
Silence. One beat. Two.
Then:
"I want you to understand," Luka said without turning, "that I'm the only one who should've been allowed to take you."
Ren's stomach twisted.
His voice came out like a breath dragged through fire. "That's messed up."
"No," Luka said simply. "That's alpha."
Ren stared at him. Not just his body - the way he stood, the lines of muscle coiled under the shirt - but everything else. The stillness. The restraint. The undercurrent of something dangerous that hadn't quite snapped yet.
And still, Ren couldn't look away.
He walked to the table slowly. The collar sat there like something out of a medical facility - clean, silver, unassuming. He touched it with two fingers. It was colder than expected.
"I'm not putting it on," Ren said, almost a whisper. "You can't make me."
"I won't."
"Because it's about consent, right? Agency? Isn't that what they always say when the cameras are rolling?"
Luka didn't respond.
"I'd rather break something than wear it," Ren muttered.
"That's your call."
The room was too quiet.
Ren stepped back and sank to the floor against the far wall. His body felt hot in places and cold in others - nerves short-circuiting, systems colliding. His breath was fast, shallow. Not panic. Something worse.
His voice was barely audible. "You're my alpha."
"No," Luka said, and this time he turned to face him fully. "The registry assigned me. That's not the same thing."
Ren's eyes stung, and not from scent triggers.
"I'm not yours."
Luka didn't argue.
"Not yet."