The bespoke alloy of the collar hit the stained carpet floor of the PC room with a dull thud.

For six months, that piece of metal had been a second skin. It was forged by Valko’s own hand—an elegant, seamless band of silver and dark chrome that looked like high-end EonCore tech to the untrained eye. 

To you, it was a leash, no better than something you’d chain up a dog with. It read your pulse, monitored your temperature, and broadcasted your exact coordinates to the apex predator of Linkon City.

No matter where you were, what you did, who you tried to beg to save you, all of it was fed back to him. Delectable information that ensured you were never out of his claws.

"I…I think we did it," Toby, one of your only friends, dared to whisper, his hands visibly shaking as he tapped away on his keyboard, running some final diagnostics. The glow of the monitors showed the sheen of sweat on his panicked face. The other two regulars, a pair of brilliant but naïve hackers who practically lived in the back room of this neon-lit arcade, looked just as terrified. 

They had managed to scramble the biometric locks and fry the GPS transmitter using a localized EMP rig. Magnificent work, really. They were wizards when it came to this stuff.

But they had good reason to be so on edge. Valko was cruel, yes, even to you. But not the kind of cruelty he could freely inflict upon anyone who wasn’t. That was so many leagues worse, you didn’t even want to imagine it.

You touched your bare throat, feeling raw skin for the first time in what honestly felt like eons.

"Thank you," you breathed, grabbing your stashed duffel bag from under the desk, meager money and belongings inside, enough to tide you over. "If anyone asks, I was never here. Wipe the security feeds."

"Already running the script," Toby said, giving you a tight, nervous smile. "Get out of the city. EonCore has eyes everywhere."

You didn't need to be told twice.

…

The Linkon City subway system at this hour was a desolate, liminal cavern of white tiles and flickering fluorescent lights. For such a chic, sleek city, there was a certain hour when everything became eerie. 

You swiped a pre-paid transit card, your heart hammering rapidly against your ribs as you descended the escalator to the deepest platform. The express train out of the city limits was due in three minutes.

Three minutes to freedom. Three minutes until you were out of his territory.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up too hard, but it was a challenge not to at least indulge your fantasies a little. Picturing you, finally on your own, finally in a place where you could be at peace. Somewhere rural, picturesque, green trees and fields. 

The chance to have friends again. The chance to feel true love. Not whatever this was. Not what he had mistaken for it. 

You paced the edge of the yellow warning line, gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t rip. You were just starting to believe it was real—that you had actually slipped through the fingers of the Chairman—when the burner phone in your pocket began to vibrate.

The harsh buzzing made you flinch, and nausea pooled in your belly. What if it’s–-

You pulled it out to check. The caller ID was Toby’s number, but that wasn’t any more reassuring. A spike of dread pierced you like a skewer. Why was he calling? Had the wipe failed? Or something worse?

You pressed the phone to your ear, answering despite the risk. 

"Toby? I'm almost on the train, did something—"

The sound that poured through the speaker made your blood run freezing cold. It was a wet, heavy crunch of machinery and bone, followed by a scream so raw and ragged it barely sounded human. 

Glass shattered in the background, what must have been a massive pane of it. You heard metal warping, bending and creaking in response to the sheer force of an Evol manifestation.

Then, the screaming abruptly choked out, replaced by the heavy bootsteps that seemed to haunt you anywhere and everywhere, no matter how you tried to escape.

"Where are you?"

Valko’s voice rattled deep, right through your ears and down to your frantic little heart. It wasn't the polished press-ready tone of the EonCore Chairman. It was the feral, guttural snarl of a beast that had just found its companion’s cage empty.

You couldn't breathe. Your throat locked up.

"Did you really think a few rats with keyboards could hide my scent from me?" he asked softly, almost in a tender way. But you heard the shriek of metal being crushed in his hand. "Hear that? That’s your collar. But you aren’t here wearing it…that’s strange…”

A little whimper choked up from your throat. Though he paused, you could simply feel it then. That sick smirk curling on his lips.

“Well, [Y/N], you decided you don’t love me anymore, that you don’t want to be together. That’s what this is telling me. And now, it’s time for you to make another decision.”

Distantly, you could hear bones grinding again, and someone groaning, pleading weakly.

“...Which one of your little ‘friends’ would you miss the least?”

Pure, unadulterated panic. You hit END and hurled the burner phone onto the tracks, watching it shatter against the rails.

But as the plastic broke apart, it all hit you at once. EonCore owned the cell towers. They owned the infrastructure. By answering that call, you hadn't just spoken to him—you had given him an active, localized ping. He didn't even need the collar anymore.

Pointless. It had all been pointless.

Now, because of you, your friends were going to die. Now, because of your own stupidity, it was likely you would too. 

Or, at the very least, you’d wish you could.

You spun around, looking desperately down the dark, cavernous tunnel. The digital board overhead flashed: TRAIN ARRIVING IN 1 MINUTE.

Run. You had to run.

But before you could take a single step toward the emergency exit stairs, the ambient temperature on the platform plummeted, and a predatory aura filled the air. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered wildly, buzzing with electrical interference, before popping out one by one in a rapid cascade down the platform.

Darkness swallowed the station, leaving only the dim, emergency red glow. Trembling, you cowered backwards as you heard something coming.

Not running. More like the heavy impact of something dropping down from the high maintenance shafts—a shortcut no human could survive taking.

But he could. There was so much he could do.

"I can smell you, [Y/N]. You’re afraid, aren’t you?"

The voice came from the shadows to your left. Too close. Impossibly close.

You backed up rapidly, your heel catching on the tactile paving at the edge of the platform. Down below, the tracks awaited. The distant, blinding light of the incoming train appeared in the tunnel, a distant roar as it approached.

It all happened so fast, but in a moment of blind, absolute terror, the tracks looked like a better alternative than whatever was waiting for you in the dark. The torment he might put you through if he got his hands on you again.

If the end came now, then…at least it would be on your own terms.

At least you’d finally be free.

You leaned back willingly, gravity pulling you toward the edge, an embrace you welcomed. You’d let it take you. You’d let the train do the job. And then—

A hand, cold as ice and hard as steel, clamped around your throat.

Windpipe near crushed, you were hauled forward with enough force to give you whiplash. The world blurred as he threw you against the tiled wall of the station, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. 

“ACK–!!”

Before you could even gasp for another breath, a heavy, solid body pressed flush against yours, caging you in completely.

The train roared past on the tracks behind him, the blinding lights strobing over Valko’s face.

He was a terrifying sight. His tailored, charcoal suit jacket was ruined, torn at the shoulders to accommodate the sheer, bulky expansion of his muscles. 

His golden eyes caught the flashing lights of the train, glowing with an unhinged intensity, worse than any you’d seen from him before. Sharp, prominent canines pressed against his lower lip as he panted, his chest heaving against yours.

There was blood on him. Under his nails, splattered on his cheek, soaked into the fabric. Just the smell of it alone set every nerve of your body alight.

“Don’t be fucking stupid. I’d never let you get away that easy…”

Valko leaned down, his face burying into the crook of your neck. He took a deep, shuddering inhale, inhaling your sweet scent, before pressing his sharp teeth lightly against your pulse point, and whispering…

"Never.”

zayne who feels a thrill of satisfaction whenever you choose him over anyone else. dinner with coworkers, drinks with your friends from college, almost all of them you reject in favor of being with zayne.

zayne who has to be mindful not to lose control whenever you beg him not to go to work. he finds it especially difficult early in the morning, when you press your soft breasts against his arm and plead in your sleep-soft voice that he not go to akso today. when he informs you that he has multiple patient appointments on his schedule, you bat your eyelashes at him and say, "but i'm your most important patient." he doesn't refute you—you're correct after all. zayne still leaves for work but not before squeezing in a quick fuck to satisfy his most important patient's needs.

zayne who relishes the sight of your tears as you throw a tantrum about not seeing him enough. he had to cancel your date earlier because of an emergency case at akso hospital, but here he is now standing at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of your favorite takeout, patiently watching as you sob and stomp your feet and complain about your ruined date. when he thinks you have finished your tearful little tirade, he guides you to the sofa and pulls you onto his lap where you promptly melt against him.

zayne who gently rocks you on his lap, pets your hair, whispers soothing words into the shell of your ear, kisses the tears off your cheeks (discreetly licks the salt from his lips). "i'm sorry, my darling," he says soothingly. "let me make it up to you, sweet girl. i already filed for leave for the next two days. let's go to that amusement park you've been wanting to go to. how does that sound, hm?" he can't help but find your sniffles and hiccups adorable as you attempt to collect yourself, appeased at the thought of spending the next two days with him. my poor darling, zayne muses, so miserable over a cancelled date with me. the thought alone makes his slacks feel tight. it's not long before he has you grinding against his hardness, your face still streaked with tear tracks.

zayne who is anticipating prepared for the hissy fit you throw when he informs you of an upcoming trip for a medical conference where he will be attending as a speaker. you attempt to give him the silent treatment after stomping over to your bedroom, but he won't tolerate that. "none of that now," he says lowly while he grips your cheeks, pushing your lips into an adorable pout, "if you have a problem, tell me directly." your tantrum quickly dissolves into tears and puppy eyes, and he finds it all so so endearing and lovely. "i-i'm just upset because i'll miss you so much, daddy," you say as you cling to his shirtsleeves, as if a great gust of wind might carry him away from you any moment. he rubs your back as you whine about having to share him with the world. he shushes you, assures you that he is yours and your alone. the next day, he books two plane tickets for the trip.

zayne who decides to let go of his teaching position at skyhaven university when you have a meltdown over one of his students contacting him past midnight. it was an innocuous email—she had just been asking zayne when he would next be available for a research paper consultation—but you were nearly inconsolable at the thought of him replying to some stupid student's email instead of cuddling with you in bed. his acquaintances at the medical school had been surprised with his decision but he knew he had made the right choice when, upon telling you that he had relinquished his position at the university in order to spend more time with you, you had embraced him so tightly it took his breath away, all the while beaming up at him with the most brilliant smile he's seen from you in days.

zayne who pretends to disapprove of your behavior when you're catty and rude to the new nurse that's been making advances at him. you had called her names and you happened to have done it within earshot of the hospital director too. he's not really angry—he could never truly be angry with you—but he loves having an excuse to lecture you, bend you over his office desk, and watch the skin of your ass jiggle with each strike of his palm. you moan plaintively when he finally takes you rough and deep. "sorry daddy. just hate it so bad when other people look at you," you whine through your tears. your pitiful admission only spurs him on, and a gasp leaves your lips as he thrusts in as deep as he can go, making you take every thick inch of him. "my poor darling," he breathes gruffly against your ear, "is this what you wanted? my full attention?" another brutal thrust makes you gasp his name. "you have it, sweetheart, so take it."

zayne who has a fleeting thought of distancing himself from you after losing control of his evol. it had been late at night and he was about to pick you up from the train station. he had already spotted you in the distance when he noticed a man forcing himself into your space. you tried to back away from him when his hand shot out to grab your arm. zayne saw red. he had only meant to freeze the man's hand over, startle him just enough to stop his advancing towards you, but the next thing zayne knew, the stranger was doubled over in pain, jagged ice encasing his entire arm and shoulder. beside him, you clutched your bleeding arm. zayne rushed over to you, paying no mind to the familiar pinpricks of ice creeping up his neck. as he frantically inspected your injury, the horrifying realization that he was the one who had injured you dawned on him with sudden clarity. in that moment, the most wretched sense of deja vu washed over him.

zayne who can feel self-hatred twist in his gut as he stitches you up at home—he insisted on taking you to the hospital but you refused to budge unless he promised to take you back home. after the blood was washed away, the injury turned out to be much less severe than it had initially looked—a stray ice crystal had left a relatively superficial cut along the lateral side of your arm. but zayne felt wretched anyway. "it was just a little cut, zaynie," you attempt to comfort him but he remains silent as he bandages your arm. you could see in his stony expression, in the distance he placed between you even as he treated your wound, that he was retreating into himself with each passing second. zayne is a man of action and it is obvious to you what he intends to do.

zayne who is startled out of his self-resenting downspiral when you crash your lips to his. distantly, he knows that he should stop you as you tear desperately at his clothes. i am no good for you, i am always destined to hurt you, i do nothing but bring you pain. but even as these thoughts remained at the back of his mind, he could never resist you. he finds himself willingly being pushed back into the plush rug of your living room, your hands making quick work of his fly. "be careful, sweetheart. your stitches—fuck!" he had barely registered you pushing his boxers down before your tight heat is surrounding him.

zayne who can't help the rush of tears as you beg him not to leave. you shower his face with needy little kisses as you ride him, deliberately squeezing your pussy around him like you never want to let him go. "please don't leave, zayne," you beg through your own tears, "i know what you're thinking, you think i'll be better off without you. but please zayne, listen to me now, i would be nothing without you by my side. i would rather die by your hands than be without you ever again."

zayne who, despite being dizzy with pleasure, attempts to say, "no, my darling. please don't say that." but the eager twitch of his cock at your declaration belies his words. because despite his protests, a sick selfish part of him has always rejoiced in your singular devotion to him.

zayne who knows from a psychological standpoint that it's not healthy for you to be so dependent on him, yet he can't bring himself to care. he cherishes your reliance on him. he basks in your single-minded loyalty to him. his heart is full knowing you only have eyes for him, him, him.

zayne who, after a life of loneliness and regret, finally relinquishes any lingering doubts about whether he was meant for you. you wanted him, and in turn, he wanted you all to himself too. and that was all that truly mattered.