Chan's POV
The corridors of Mixtape Corporation were quiet, save for the hum of machines and the faint murmur of voices in distant offices. Chan's footsteps echoed sharply as he stalked toward the executive wing, his wolf clawing just beneath his skin.
He had been patient. Too patient. Watching as Minho kept him at arm's length while their wolves screamed for each other was torture. Everyone else was surrendering to their mates, yet his own stood behind locked doors and colder walls than ever.
Chan shoved open Minho's office door without knocking.
Minho was behind his desk, files neatly stacked, whiskey glass untouched beside him. His eyes flicked up, cool and unimpressed.
"You don't knock now?"
Chan slammed the door shut, his voice a low growl.
"Enough games, Minho."
Minho leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with calculated calm. "If this is about work—"
"This isn't about work," Chan cut him off. His chest rose and fell with the effort to contain his wolf. "You feel it. Don't you dare tell me you don't."
Minho's jaw tightened, but he didn't answer.
Chan stepped closer, every word a demand.
"The bond. Our wolves are tearing us apart because of it. You think I can't feel yours howling for me?"
---
Minho's POV
Chan was too close. Too raw. His presence filled the room like fire, suffocating and irresistible all at once.
Minho's wolf howled in agreement with every accusation, clawing against his ribs, desperate to reach the Alpha before him. But Minho had spent years mastering control. He wasn't about to break now.
He stood abruptly, meeting Chan's burning gaze with steel.
"You think I haven't noticed? That I don't wake up every damn night with my wolf screaming your name?" Minho's voice cracked, sharp with suppressed pain. "I know, Chan. I've known since the first moment."
Chan's lips parted, a flicker of relief in his eyes but Minho's next words were a dagger.
"But I don't want it."
The silence after those words was deafening.
Chan flinched as though struck, but his Alpha aura surged, pressing down on Minho like a storm.
"You can't just deny it. This bond, it's not a choice."
Minho's laugh was bitter, hollow. "Everything is a choice. And I choose not to chain myself to you."
But his body betrayed him. His hands trembled, his wolf clawed harder, and his eyes burned with the truth he refused to admit: he wanted Chan. Needed him.
---
Chan's POV
Something inside Chan snapped.
In two strides, he closed the distance, his hand slamming against the desk beside Minho, caging him in. Their faces were inches apart, their breaths colliding in heated defiance.
"You can lie to yourself all you want," Chan growled, voice low, trembling with restrained desire. "But your wolf won't let you lie to me."
Minho's heart pounded so loud Chan could hear it. His pupils were blown wide, his scent laced with longing despite the words he'd thrown like blades.
For a split second, the tension crackled; sharp, fragile, electric.
Chan's wolf begged him to close the gap. To claim. To taste.
But he didn't.
Instead, he whispered, raw and dangerous, "I'll give you time. But remember this Minho, mates always find a way. Even if you fight me, even if you fight yourself…you're already mine."
He pulled away abruptly, leaving Minho standing there, shaking, furious, and more conflicted than ever.