#triggering warning

It seemed like a touch of renovation was necessary.The new wallpaper added a sense of grandeur to the hallway, transforming it from a simple passageway into a regal corridor fit for royalty. The intricate golden designs seemed to shimmer in the soft light, giving the space an air of elegance and sophistication.

As I continued down the hallway, I couldn't help but admire the attention to detail in the recent decor. The once plain walls now exuded a sense of luxury and opulence, making me feel as though I had stepped into a palace rather than a simple hallway.

The change in the decor made me wonder what other surprises awaited me in this seemingly ordinary house. Perhaps there were more hidden gems waiting to be discovered, just waiting for someone to uncover them. The touch of renovation had breathed new life into the space, turning it into a place of beauty and wonder.

I took a sharp left turn and proceeded to walk ten steps towards the next entrance. The door that stood before me was a grand arched walnut door, adorned with four squares - two on top and two at the bottom. A single word was intricately etched onto the door, presumably in Latin.

"BIBLIOTHECA".

Most definitely Latin.

With a firm grip, I turned the doorknob and pushed it downwards. The door let out a loud creak as it swung open, revealing a vast library. Countless books were neatly arranged on the shelves, and there was even an upper level filled with literary works. A large window in the corner illuminated the room with a soft, inviting light.

I stepped inside, feeling a sense of awe and wonder at the sheer magnitude of knowledge that surrounded me. The smell of old books and leather filled the air, adding to the ambiance of the room. I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of exploring this treasure trove of literature.

As I walked further into the library, I noticed a desk in the center of the room with a single candle burning on top. A leather-bound book lay open on the desk, its pages filled with elegant script.

And there, amidst the sea of books, sat Simon.

He was engrossed in a thick volume, his finger tracing the lines of text as he absorbed the knowledge within. The room seemed to come alive with the sound of rustling pages and the faint scent of aged paper.

The floorboards creaked beneath my weight, stepping echoing through the vast space. Simon looked up from his reading, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of surprise and delight.

"Salutations, Violet," he greeted me with a nod, acknowledging my presence in the grand library.

As I wandered through the endless rows of books, I casually greeted Simon. "Impressive library, right?"

Simon's puzzled expression made me stumble over my words. "I knew it was big, but this is massive."

Curious about my day, Simon asked, "What have you been up to?"

I shared my conversations with Gabriel and Joseph, piquing Simon's interest. "Gabriel mentioned the Volturi, right? And Joseph's stories?"

"Yeah, that got me thinking," I replied. "How did you meet them?"

With thoughts of shadow creatures and Joseph's brother swirling in my mind, I decided to seize the opportunity to learn more about Simon.

With a gentle thud, Simon closed his book and pushed it aside. His eyes lifted, gazing up at me with a curious intensity.

Simon gently closed his book, the sound of its pages meeting with a soft thud. With a thoughtful expression, he set it aside, his eyes lifting to meet mine. There was a curious intensity in his gaze, as if he held a multitude of stories within.

"It's quite a tale," he began, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "A story that stretches back to a time long ago. I was born into the esteemed Walton family in the year 1589, a time of great wealth and privilege. My childhood was filled with joy and wonder."

A wistful smile played upon his lips as he continued, his voice tinged with a touch of melancholy. "But as the years passed, whispers of witches and demons began to haunt our village. The fear grew, and I couldn't stand idly by. At the age of twenty-five, I joined a hunting group, determined to protect our community from the darkness that lurked."

His eyes flickered with a mix of pride and sorrow as he spoke of his marriage. "In those tumultuous times, I found solace in the arms of a young woman named Josian. We shared a love that burned bright, and together we welcomed a son into this world, Arthur.

"But fate had a different plan in store for me. In the year 1620, on a fateful afternoon, I encountered a vampire named Alistair. He attacked me viciously, leaving me on the brink of death. In a desperate bid for survival, he turned me into one of his own kind.

"After my transformation, an insatiable thirst consumed me. The very hunting group I had once fought alongside came searching for me, unaware of the monstrous creature I had become. With newfound strength along with my uncontrollable thirst for blood, I mercilessly slaughtered them, one by one.

"Since that day, I have been a wanderer, forever separated from my family. The weight of my actions and the curse that now resides within me have kept me from returning to their embrace. I am condemned to roam this world, forever haunted by the choices I made in that distant past.

"Forty years later, Gabriel and Joseph stumbled upon me in the woods as they were bringing home a few deer. I inquired about their intentions with the animals, and Gabriel enlightened me on the practice of consuming animal blood.

"Intrigued by this alternative to feeding on humans, I began to experiment with this new diet. Over time, I found that I could sustain myself without causing harm to others. Gabriel and Joseph became my companions, teaching me about the modern world and helping me adjust to my new existence."

As I delved into the story, I was pleasantly surprised. The tale of Gabriel and Joseph was a sombre one, but with Simon, it was different. Though his transformation into a vampire and subsequent demise at the hands of this Alistair vampire man was undoubtedly tragic, there was something about him that made it all seem less sorrowful. Perhaps it was his demeanour, or maybe it was the way he spoke of his past. Regardless, my mind couldn't help but wander to thoughts of him and Alana.

I couldn't resist delving into the depths of fate and asking the question that burned within me. 'How did you meet her, Simon? Alana, I mean. How did the two of you come to be?'"

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he continued, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "It was in the year 1924, a time when the world was on the cusp of change. I discovered that Gabriel and Joseph, two beings who possessed an otherworldly wisdom, were keeping a watchful eye on Alana. She carried within her the precious gift of life, her son Ethan."

Simon paused for a moment, his gaze lost in the memories of a bygone era. "I knew then, in that very moment, that she was the one I had been searching for throughout the ages. The one who would complete me, who would be my eternal companion."

A quizzical expression crossed my face as I interjected, unable to contain my curiosity. "By watching, you mean stalking?"

Simon's eyes twinkled with amusement as he shook his head gently. "No, Violet, it was not stalking. They were merely keeping a watchful eye, ensuring her safety and well-being. A task entrusted to them by forces greater than ourselves."

A playful smirk danced upon my lips as I challenged his perspective. "I hate to disagree with you, but that sounds an awful lot like stalking, Simon."

Simon chuckled softly, his voice tinged with affection. "Perhaps you are right, but in the realm of immortals, the lines between protection and obsession can become blurred. Anyway, when she was giving birth, Joseph instructed me to fetch Alana as she was on the brink of death. After Ethan was born, I went to the hospital and took her. Once we were far away from humans, I turned her. And after she was turned, she revealed that..."

He paused, his hands clenched tightly. His once bright golden eyes now reflected regret as he shared his hidden truth. Taking a deep breath, he let out a heavy sigh, his voice trembling.

"She trusted me with the fact that she was pregnant because..." His words trailed off as he nervously swallowed, his throat moving up and down.

I didn't need him to finish his sentence. I already knew.

"It's okay," I comforted him, sensing his discomfort. "You don't have to say more if you don't want to."

His body tensed, his hand automatically reaching up to rub his nose. It was clear that the topic was painful for him, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for his suffering.

As I divulged the details, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

"I made my way to his dwelling and put an end to his wretched existence. He had no right to keep living after the atrocious act he committed against her." The words dripped with venom, a stark contrast to the composed demeanor I had associated with Simon.

Simon calmly recounted the story of how he had helped raise Ethan alongside the woman he loved. A small smile slowly appeared on his pale face as he reminisced. "I believe it was in that very moment that she fell in love with me," he mused.

"I suppose you just happened to be her type," I remarked, causing Simon to chuckle. Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind. "While you were raising Ethan, did anyone ever find your family suspicious?"

Simon began to recount a particular incident from Ethan's school days. "There was this one time when he was still a schoolboy," he began. "His teacher, Ms. Cook, was an extremely religious woman who treated him horribly. She would constantly refer to him as the Devil's child and the spawn of Satan. It wasn't just her, but the entire school system seemed against him. That's when we decided to pull him out of school and I took on the responsibility of homeschooling him."

"Did anyone ever suspect that you all were vampires?" I asked, curious.

"No, they suspected we were part of some cult, but not vampires," Simon replied.

"Interesting. So, how did Ethan eventually find out about your true nature?" I inquired.

"It was when he turned fifteen that he started noticing something peculiar," Simon explained. "He began to realize that while he and others were aging, we remained unchanged. With Gabriel's permission, Alana and I decided to reveal our secret to him."

"At first, Ethan thought it was all a joke. But as I explained our unique characteristics, our eyes, our diet, everything, he was genuinely surprised."

"And he didn't tell anyone?" I asked, intrigued.

"No," Simon replied. "He didn't have many friends to begin with, as people didn't like or trust us."

"When did he become a vampire?"

"When he was twenty-one. He was walking home from his work from the office. It was during World War Two, and it was at night. As he was walking, he heard a scream. It was a woman's scream. He followed the sound to a dark alleyway and he saw a man attacking the woman. He pulled him away and told her to run. That was when the man stabbed him."

I couldn't help but question him, my curiosity piqued by the bravery and selflessness of his actions. "He was saving a life?" I asked, my voice filled with awe.

Simon nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and sadness. "He saved a woman from the same trauma that his mother had endured," he explained. "Alana, with her extraordinary gift, guided me to him. I could smell his blood, leading me to the scene. It was a difficult decision, but I knew I had to protect him."

I pondered his words, my lips pursed together. "And Alana? What did she think of it all?"

"At first, she was angry," Simon admitted. "But Ethan, the young man I saved, explained that I had not only saved his life but also rescued the woman from her attacker. It was a bittersweet choice, but in the end, it was the right one."

A sense of relief washed over me as I realized that this story had a happy ending. "At least it all worked out in the end," I remarked, giving him a small

"Yeah, it sure does."

Simon finished his story, exuding a calming aura of tranquility and understanding. Without missing a beat, he shifted the conversation. "Why did you come to the library, anyway?"

"I was thinking of finding books on mythical creatures," I answered. And perhaps shadow creatures too.

"Let me guess. Now that you're a vampire, you're curious about all things mythical?"

I chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yes, exactly. I want to educate myself on things that were once just stories to me."

Simon leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Mythical creatures are certainly fascinating. Speaking of which, has Gabriel enlightened you about a group of women who can transform into bears?"

"What?"

"Oh, he hasn't. They are known as the Ursa Clan. They originated during the Viking era."

I leaned in, eager to hear more about this mysterious clan. "Tell me more about them. Are they dangerous?"

Simon's eyes sparkled with excitement as he began to recount the tales of the Ursa Clan. "Legend has it that the Ursa Clan were fierce warriors who could shift into powerful bears at will. They were said to be protectors of the forests, but also feared by those who crossed their path. It is said that they possess incredible strength and agility, making them formidable opponents in battle."

I listened intently, my curiosity piqued by the stories of these mythical beings. "Do they still exist today?"

"Gabriel has established a truce with them," Simon revealed. "The clan was once adversaries of the vampires. But now, they coexist peacefully, each respecting the other's territory and boundaries. It's a delicate balance, but one that has been maintained for centuries."

I couldn't help but be fascinated by the idea of these powerful women who could transform into bears. "Do you think I could meet them someday?"

Simon smiled knowingly. "Perhaps. But remember, they are not to be underestimated. Approach with caution and respect, and they may just welcome you into their world."

After our discussion about the Ursa Clan, Simon directed my attention to the mythology section on the upper floor. He even mentioned the presence of a computer, in case I couldn't find what I was looking for.

I made my way up to the upper floor of the library. As I entered the mythology section, I was immediately surrounded by shelves filled with ancient texts and dusty tomes. The air was heavy with the scent of aged paper, adding to the mystical atmosphere of the place.

Contemplating whether to delve into the lore of the Ursa Clan or the enigmatic shadow creatures first, I settled on exploring the shadows. Perhaps in the future, I would uncover more about the fierce warrior women who could shift into bears.

I noticed a Windows computer sitting on the desk, so I decided to log in. Simon had shared the computer's login information with me. I opened up a search engine and entered 'shadow creatures' into the search bar. The results were overwhelming, with millions of hits popping up on the screen.

I scrolled through the search results, my curiosity piqued by the sheer volume of information available. Articles, forum threads, and even videos flooded the screen, each promising to shed light on the mysterious topic of shadow creatures. Intrigued, I clicked on the first link that caught my eye.

The webpage loaded, revealing a detailed article about various folklore and mythologies surrounding shadow creatures. It delved into ancient legends from different cultures, describing these elusive beings as ethereal entities that lurked in the shadows, often associated with darkness and fear. The article mentioned accounts of people claiming to have encountered these creatures, describing their chilling experiences and the lingering sense of dread that followed.

As I continued my search, I discovered that shadow creatures were not limited to folklore alone. There were scientific theories proposing explanations for their existence, ranging from psychological phenomena to paranormal occurrences. Some suggested that these entities were manifestations of repressed emotions or traumatic experiences, while others believed they were interdimensional beings that occasionally crossed paths with our reality.

Intrigued by the diverse range of perspectives, I clicked on a forum thread where individuals shared their personal encounters with shadow creatures. The stories were both captivating and unsettling. People described seeing fleeting glimpses of dark figures darting across their peripheral vision, lurking in corners, or even standing at the foot of their beds. Some claimed to have felt an overwhelming sense of malevolence emanating from these entities, while others believed they were simply curious observers.

As I delved deeper into the search results, I stumbled upon videos capturing alleged sightings of shadow creatures. Grainy footage showed dark, amorphous shapes moving swiftly through dimly lit rooms, leaving viewers with a sense of unease. The comments section was filled with debates, skeptics questioning the authenticity of the videos, and believers sharing their own chilling encounters.

The more I read and watched, the more I became engrossed in the enigma of shadow creatures. It was as if a hidden world had been unveiled before me, one that existed on the fringes of our understanding. The sheer abundance of information and personal accounts left me both fascinated and unnerved, my mind racing with questions and a desire to uncover the truth.

As I closed the browser, I couldn't help but wonder about the nature of these shadow creatures. Were they mere figments of imagination, born from our deepest fears and anxieties? Or were they something more, entities that existed beyond our comprehension?

And if Ingram had achieved immortality, could he be the mastermind behind it all? Could he be the puppet master behind these shadowy beings, pulling the strings from the shadows? It was a chilling thought, one that sent shivers down my spine.

Leaving the library, I found myself stepping into the darkness that enveloped the mansion's surroundings. Realizing the extensive amount of time I had spent delving into the realm of shadow creatures, I couldn't help but ponder the effects it would have had on a human. Hours spent hunched over a computer screen would have surely resulted in back pain and discomfort. Yet, to my surprise, my posture remained impeccable, devoid of any discomfort or strain.

Leaning against the window sill, I gazed up at the sky, lost in contemplation. The stars twinkled above, their light casting a soft glow over the mansion grounds, but the absence of the moon meant the Children of the Moon would likely remain silent.

Just as I was preparing to depart, something grabbed my attention.  There stood a man's silhouette, hands tucked in his pockets. He was impeccably dressed in a burgundy jacket, waistcoat, black trousers, and polished black shoes. His piercing red eyes mirrored those of the shadowy figure from Epping Forest. 

His features became clearer as I observed him. An oblong face adorned with facial hair that extended to his neck. His dark, thick hair resembled Joseph's, inviting my fingers to run through it and —

Why was I fixating on that last detail? I never thought about anything like that. Never. So, why...?

Could it be Ingram, Joseph's brother? Vampires were known for their charm. Perhaps he was using it on me somehow.

Curiosity and a hint of fear coursed through my veins as I continued to study the man. His lips curled into a faint smile, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. There was an air of mystery about him, an aura that seemed to draw me in, despite the warning bells ringing in the back of my mind.

As if sensing my inner turmoil, the man took a step closer, his movements graceful and deliberate. The moonless night seemed to amplify the intensity of his gaze, drawing me further into his magnetic pull. I could feel a strange energy emanating from him, an aura that seemed to envelop the entire surroundings. 

My mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. Was this really Ingram, or was it some trick of the mind? The resemblance to Joseph was uncanny, but there was something different about this man, something otherworldly.

A voice in the back of my mind urged caution, reminding me of the dangers that lurked in the darkness. But another part of me, a part that was drawn to the unknown, yearned to uncover the truth. I took a hesitant step forward, my curiosity overpowering my fear. 

The man's smile widened, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something darker. It was as if he could read my thoughts, as if he knew the internal struggle I was facing.

"Violet?" Gabriel's voice broke through the spellbinding gaze, causing me to abruptly shift my attention away from the man's captivating eyes. Stepping back, I felt a twinge of annoyance as I regarded Gabriel.

He stood there, his arms crossed and a concerned expression etched across his face. "You alright?"

I sighed, torn between the allure of the mysterious man and the reality of the present moment. "I was just lost in thought," I replied, my voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

Gabriel's eyes flickered towards the window I was looking at not so long ago, his brows furrowing slightly. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No."

I lied. For some reason, what had just transpired felt deeply personal to me.

I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this encounter than met the eye. Ingram, or whoever he was, had stirred something within me that I couldn't quite explain.

As Gabriel departed without uttering another word, I turned my gaze back to the window, only to find the mysterious man had vanished into the depths of night.

-

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

-

He realized, days earlier, that he’d forgotten his shaving kit in Kinn’s home. But Porsche didn’t want to go back there. He didn’t want to send the wrong message. Toss had gotten him a new set, just so Porsche wouldn’t have to worry. 

But he’d worried. The new set didn't feel as good as the one he’d broken in and gotten used to. By the time it was confirmed that Kinn was away, Porsche made a note to go check during the weekend. He’d be in and out as quickly as possible.

At least, that had been the plan. 

Waltzing into the main family compound wasn’t the problem. As the guards greeted him, going about their day as they usually did, Porsche headed straight to Kinn’s room. As he opened the door and stepped in, he paused, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Kinn’s cologne still hung in the air. Even after days of being away. 

He couldn’t stay longer than he had to. But he couldn’t help himself. Pulling out a drawer of undershirts, Porsche sat on Kinn’s bed, nose buried in the familiar scent. He wanted to remember it better when he went to sleep. He wanted to arm his senses with pieces of Kinn for later. Because who knew when next he’d be allowed in Kinn’s presence.

Opening the box of Butiel tabs, Porsche hesitated. Kinn always burned a tablet whenever he was home. He liked the smell. It calmed him. Porsche did it for him, whenever he woke up before Kinn, because Kinn liked to wake up to the flowery, leathery corn smell wafting through the room. Porsche had lit one the morning he left. He remembered distinctly, because he’d opened a new packet. He’d taken out just one, lit it and left.

Looking at this packet, it was still the same one. Kinn hadn’t lit another one, that day. Either he hadn’t come home, or he’d come home so quickly that the one Porsche lit was still burning.

Which was impossible. 

Porsche opened the cabinet where extra supplies were, in Kinn’s room, and surely, the set of Butiel packs were exactly as Porsche had left them. If Kinn was taking a trip, he’d have taken a packet, at least. 

He went to Kinn’s cupboard, throwing the doors open as he counted all six sets of boxes in place. He dragged them out, checking for the one that Kinn might have packed his things in. Whenever he took trips on a whim, he liked to use the smallest box, or the bag in the set. So Porsche opened each box set, from the biggest, till he got to the smallest one at the center. When he was done, Porsche sat in a sea of open box sets and dialed Vegas’ number.

“Do you know where Kinn is?”

“I thought we were avoiding him,” Vegas said.

“I’m serious.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Do you have a tracker on Kinn?”

“Nope.”

“Vegas.”

“I don’t. I swear.” Then a pause. “But the main family does.”

Porsche rose up on his knees.

“Where is he?”

Vegas sighed.

“Porsche, he needs his space.”

“I’m not trying to disturb him.”

“I thought you guys had worked it out but then he ran away. And I know it had something to do with you, so just… give him a moment.”

“Something’s wrong, Vegas.”

“Nothing’s wrong. This is how he is.”

“No, it’s not. He didn't pack a bag. His incense is still here. And even Tankhun hasn’t spoken to him. Doesn’t that seem sketchy to you?”

“I don’t know-”

“Just find him for me. Please, Vegas.”

“I don’t like this, but give me a moment.”

As the call cut, Porsche went to Kinn’s drawer. They’d had that conversation a bunch of times. Even though Porsche’s parents didn’t believe in guns, even though they always frowned at the possibility of Porsche and Chay being around guns, Kinn had other plans. Since Kinn got his first gun, he’d made sure that Porsche knew where he stored it. As the cache of guns grew, spreading out across Kinn’s favorite places, such as his room, his office, Porsche’s apartment, Kinn had made sure to stock up the place. Porsche didn’t own a gun. He didn't carry one. But if he ever needed it, he knew where to look.

Picking two guns, and a few packs of bullets, Porsche put them in a bag, just as his phone rang.

Leaving the mess behind in Kinn’s room, Porsche spoke as he exited.

“He’s in the middle of nowhere.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ve sent you the coordinates. But it’s nothing, Porsche.”

“Have you ever been to that place before?”

“No.”

“And you don’t think it’s fishy?”

“I have safehouses around the country that the main family has no idea about. It’s safe to say that Kinn has secret places that I’ve never even heard of.”

“In the middle of nowhere?”

“That’s the best place to keep safehouses. Look, just be careful. You don’t want to make things worse between you two just because you’re being impatient.”

“I’m not being impatient. It just doesn’t feel right.”

Vegas was quiet.

“You’re sure about that.”

“I feel like something happened to him.”

“Okay then,” Vegas said. “Check out the place. If it’s fine, don’t approach him. Turn the car around and come right back.”

“And if I’m right?”

“Call me immediately.”

Porsche tossed the bag into the front seat, put his car in reverse and left the compound. He knew he was right. This wasn't just some ploy to spy on Kinn or some desperate attempt to beg for Kinn’s forgiveness. He could feel it in his bones, now. Something was definitely up. Kinn was in trouble.

Porsche wasn’t going to let it go until he knew what the fuck was going on, for sure.

----------------

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

-

Kinn groaned when he woke.

He gave himself a moment or two to acclimate to the bright lights. When he finally opened his eyes, it was to the sight of a dimly lit room, with marble floors and cream-colored walls, that were lined by the fluffiest chairs. The chairs covered all four walls, leaving space for two doors, one of which Kinn assumed was a bathroom, while the other led out of the room. There was a mini chandelier above head, with tiny bulbs of yellow and blue, that rotated in slow motion, casting dim colors upon the walls. 

He was in a four-poster bed, with the curtains of the posts, pulled up, but still draped over the side. The air was scented. Kinn could smell the added fragrance. But it had nothing to do with the red petals that were spread all over the room; on the floor, on the bed, on the chairs. In the corner, there was a trolley of wine, with two glasses leaning against each other.

He could see what they were going for, and honestly, under other circumstances, Kinn would have thought it was romantic. But given that, currently, both his hands were cuffed to opposite corners of the bed, it was hard to feel the love.

There was movement outside the door. When the door opened, Tawan walked in. He had a phone in his ear, his coat and bag in his hand, and he was still dressed like he’d just come from the office.

“What the hell?” he said, flipping the switch. As the room brightened, Tawan jerked back, his phone slipping from his hand as the door behind him slammed shut. “What are you doing here?”

“Ask your father,” Kinn said.

Tawan shook his head, reaching for the door as he attempted to open it. But the door he’d just come in from was locked, unwilling to budge.

“No, no, no, no, no.” Tawan banged on the door. “Papa! Please.”

“Uncuff me,” Kinn said, but Tawan didn’t seem to hear him as he knelt down, picking up his phone and dialing.

“Papa,” Tawan pleaded. “I said I would handle it. Please open the door.”

Kinn didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved that Tawan was as much a prisoner as he was. Because, on the one hand, he didn’t want to imagine what it felt like for a father to sacrifice his son like this. But on the other hand, if Tawan was still against the bite, then Kinn didn’t have to worry about being in such a vulnerable position.

As he listened to Tawan try to reason with his father, Kinn couldn’t help wondering why his own father hadn’t come. Big and Boot would have reported his predicament by now. He had a tracker on him. If he was in trouble, then the main family guards ought to be knocking down doors. 

Unless Big and Boot were also somewhere in the compound. Bound. Unable to call for backup. Fuck, they needed to update their protocols if present ones weren’t keeping them safe.

“Papa!” Tawan called. “Fuck!” He banged on the door. “Open this fucking door.” He kicked it and kicked it till he gave up and sat by it, raising his knees and burying his head in them. 

“Tawan,” Kinn said, drawing Tawan’s attention. “Uncuff me.”

Tawan’s lips trembled like he was on the verge of tears as he got up from the door and headed for Kinn. He found the keys by the side of the bed. 

“We can wait this out,” Kinn offered. “My family will come.”

“When?” Tawan sat by Kinn’s right hand, turning the cuffs around to unlock it.

“Do you have any suppressants?”

“I don’t take suppressants.”

“Fuck,” Kinn said, realizing that they were in trouble.

“It’s fine. You’re right. We can wait this out. My last heat was two months ago. It’ll be another four months before I see another heat.”

“We can’t wait this out.”

“Why not?” Tawan asked, looking concerned. “You just said-”

“I’m on suppressants.”

Tawan stopped trying to turn the cuffs as he quickly got off the bed, like Kinn had a disease.

“Take these cuffs off, please,” Kinn said, as calmly as he could.

“Wait, so if we’re in here another twenty-four hours and the suppressants wear off, your rut will trigger?”

“Tawan-”

“I’m not on suppressants so if your rut triggers, you’ll trigger me and then we’ll both just be trying to fuck.”

“We can control ourselves. Now get these cuffs off.”

Tawan shook his head, cradling the key to his chest as he moved even further away.

“No!”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re bigger than me. You’re stronger than me. You’re an alpha.”

“That doesn't mean anything.”

“We’re locked in a room, about to go into cycles, Khun-Kinn. Surely, you can see how this isn’t an ideal situation for me.”

Tawan had experienced two heats. He was new to it and unable to regulate his hormones and emotions so Kinn could understand his fear. There was a certain mindlessness about cycles the first few times. He could understand why Tawan would think it was the same for everyone.

“Fine,” Kinn said. “Uncuff one hand, at least.”

Tawan shook his head again.

“You’re as much a threat to me as I am to you, Tawan.”

“I won’t bite you.”

“How do we know that?” Kinn asked. 

Tawan’s eyes roved on the ground, from side to side, like he was thinking. He shook his head, blinked and nodded, before looking up at Kinn.

“Okay.” He headed for the bathroom door. “I’ll- I’ll- I’ll… lock the door.”

He removed the key, entered the bathroom and locked the door.

“That won’t work,” Kinn shouted. “You could just open it and come out if your hormones get in your head.”

“Fine.” There was a rattling going on, on the other side of the door. Seconds later, the door key slid out from under the door.

Kinn sighed, staring at the ceiling in frustration.

“How long does your heat last?”

“Five… six days?”

“Will you stay there for six days? What of feeding? What if I need to use the bathroom?”

“Okay…” Tawan hesitated. “So maybe we didn't think this through.”

“We?” Kinn asked, trying not to get mad.

They were so fucked. Their best chance was in uncuffing Kinn before their cycles hit. At least, he could have tried to break the door or get the windows open. Tawan had just locked them both apart from each other. If he’d listened to Kinn, they would have been together, with better chances.

But as it stood, they were separated by a door, unable to help each other. And unable to escape.

***

Kinn couldn’t sleep that night. His hands cramped and relaxed a bunch of times. His wrists were raw from pulling at it, but the posts held up. No matter how hard he tried, he was stuck, unable to do more than shuffle about the bed. With his hands apart, hanging slightly above his shoulder, Kinn’s back was strained, as well.

However, he was thankful for the discomfort. He couldn’t imagine relaxing and falling asleep. In someone else’ bed. The nightmares had reduced significantly. At least, he didn’t wake up covered in sweat, with fear gripping his chest. But there were other things… other nightly happenings that he didn’t want to occur.

Porsche never talked about it. The few times it happened, they usually just woke up, changed the sheets and aired out his mattress, like it was nothing. Because Porsche was safe enough for Kinn’s shame. Porsche would back Kinn up, no matter what. 

He didn’t expect the same treatment from Tawan. Fiancé or not, Tawan was still just a stranger.

As morning dawned, Kinn was already beginning to feel the tinges of a rut. His nipples  were getting sore, his dick was hardening and the promise of a knot was already forming. He hadn’t taken a pill the day before, so it was way past twenty-four hours. The longer he went without stimulation, the harder the pounding in his head got. It also didn’t help that he could smell Tawan. Sometime around dawn, Tawan’s scent had started wafting through the gap in the bathroom door, soaking into Kinn’s senses, surrounding him, drowning him in the intoxication of an omegas’ presence.

The first moan from Tawan was all it took for Kinn’s knot to nudge, pushing against his pants, itching to be let out. He envied Tawan his freedom to move about in the bathroom. At least, he could jerk off. He could masturbate. He could cum.

Kinn was stuck, trying to hump the air, trying not to moan too loud, pulling against the cuffs desperate for some friction beyond light fabric. As the second evening came, Kinn was in tears. He was practically licking the air to get a taste of Tawan. A rut that he could have ridden out, alone, had become nothing but torture. He’d knotted twice to dry orgasms that were forced out of him. He needed to jerk off before another knot popped again. He needed to cum. He needed to jizz all over the fucking bed, rub his dick till the knot expanded, giving way for a seamless, blissful orgasm. But he couldn’t have that. 

Not. When. His fucking. Hands. Were. Tied!

There was a knock at the door as a guard opened it, rolling in another trolley, but this one was filled with food. As soon as he saw Kinn, he pulled out his walkie-talkie.

“Khun-Kinn is still cuffed to the bed, Sir. And Khun-Tawan…” at that moment Tawan moaned loudly; deep and guttural. “He’s in the bathroom, Sir.”

“Bring him out,” the gruff voice of the councilman said.

“No…” Kinn said, his voice scratchy and dry. “Please, don’t do-don’t do that.”

The guard picked the bathroom key, opened the door and the moment he opened it, Kinn was hit in the face with a blast of omega pheromones. Turning away, choking on want and desire, Kinn coughed. The guard went in and gently dragged out the weak-looking omega that he lay by the side of the bed.

Kinn knew he could have taken this chance if he wasn’t cuffed. He was weak and hard and his joints were stiff, but he was sure he’d be able to take the guard. As the man put the trolley off to the side, he retraced his steps, shut the door and locked them back up.

In the silence of the room, Tawan sniffed, mewling quietly on the ground, like he was in pain. He’d lost his pants and underwear, at some point, but he was still wearing his undershirt. He was breathing and judging from the smell, Kinn just knew that man was covered in cum.

“Are you… are you okay?”

Tawan mumbled something that Kinn couldn't hear.

“What was that?”

“You smell like heaven,” Tawan said.

Whatever concern Kinn felt, vanished as his stomach sank.

Slowly, with a lot of effort, Tawan sat up, his head peeking up from the side of the bed, as he stared up at Kinn with tired, bloodshot eyes. There were blisters around his mouth and his nose was dripping. When he put his hand on the bed, Kinn shifted his leg away.

“Tawan?” he said. “Calm down.”

Carefully, hissing in pain, Tawan climbed the bed, hand grabbing Kinn’s ankle as he crawled towards him.

“You’re so hard,” he said.

“Don’t,” Kinn said, kicking off Tawan’s hand but Tawan got between Kinn’s legs, spreading them apart with his body.

“I could smell you before.” His voice was just as scratchy as Kinn’s. Tawan sniffed, rubbing his nose, making it even redder. “You’re practically bursting with need. I can feel it. I can smell it. Oh god, I want your knot.” He moaned, reaching for Kinn’s zipper.

“You’re drunk on pheromones.” 

He hummed, lips searching for Kinn’s, but Kinn turned away. Tawan’s lips brushed against Kinn’s cheek as he sucked on it, licking and moving down till he was nibbling at Kinn’s neck. 

Kinn’s head went blank, for a second. Scared, he froze, unable to move, as Tawan’s lips sucked and his tongue licked. He could feel every inch of Tawan’s body, on his own. He could feel Tawan doing away with Kinn’s zipper, forcing his pants down his hips in a frenzy, freeing Kinn’s dick as it came up for air. He was super sensitive, his knot itching to expand, to usher in another orgasm.

“Ple…please,” Kinn whispered, clenching his eyes shut as he finally regained movement in his body. “You don’t want this-”

Tawan’s hand had found Kinn’s knot, rubbing it as a long moan choked out of Kinn, because FINALLY, something… someone was touching him. Kinn’s hands strained against the cuff, pulling as the cuffs cut into his skin. 

“Fucking stop!” he yelled.

Tawan wasn’t listening to him. He probably couldn’t even process what he was doing, as he jerked Kinn off, staring down at Kinn’s dick with desperate lust.

He climbed into Kinn’s lap, positioning his dick beneath his hole. Kinn tried to buck him off, but Tawan was deceptively strong, pressing Kinn’s shoulders against the wall.

“Tawan!” Kinn said. “TAWAN!” 

But Tawan couldn't hear him.

“Snap out of it.”

Tawan’s sleek, welcoming asshole slid down on Kinn’s dick, gripping his knot as Kinn’s entire body vibrated with the pleasuring pressure of it. He couldn’t help it. His body was responding to something he really didn’t want. Tawan didn’t want it either. Neither of them had asked for this. And yet, there they were, Tawan riding Kinn’s knot, moaning, his ass gripping and releasing, a soft caress, alternating with a hard hold, driving Kinn mad with a desperate need to ejaculate. 

Snapping his head back, Kinn’s teeth extended, as the urge to bite the omega in front of him was too strong.

Not knowing what he was doing, he lunged up at Tawan, but the cuffs held him back. Tawan, too gone to care, didn’t even protect himself. His eyes were closed, too, neck exposed, as he braced himself on Kinn’s shoulders, moaning, fucking himself on Kinn’s dick, moving faster and faster as the tension just kept building and building and building, till Kinn shouted, and came, flooding Tawan’s insides with cum.

This time, when the knot expanded, inside of Tawan, inside an omega, after a satisfying orgasm, Kinn was delirious with joy, unable to help the wrecked smile that spread on his face.

Even as tears flowed down the side of his eyes.

***

When he woke up, Tawan was snoring lightly against Kinn’s chest. They were bound together by Kinn’s knot. Kinn tried not to think about it, tried not to hate himself for liking it. Because he hadn’t. He hadn’t even had enough energy to see it through till the knot finished expanding, locking Tawan from moving away. It would be hours before the knot receded enough for Tawan to move. 

Still very tired, Kinn barely had time to assess his surroundings before he passed out, once again. 

***

There was a new trolley when he woke up.

Tawan was gone. Kinn’s clothes were gone. Someone had cleaned him up and covered him with a blanket.

And the best part? His wrists were no longer cuffed. 

Sitting up, he found a set of house clothes waiting for him on one of the fluffy chairs. As he went to put it on, moving slowly because everything still ached, he could hear movement inside the bathroom. His stomach growled and he went to the trolley, noting that some of the food was tampered with. As he ate, he could hear Tawan, going at it, again.

Kinn could manage. He was still hard and Tawan’s pungent scent wasn’t helping. But he needed to eat. He needed to rest. He had no idea how Tawan still had energy to still be masturbating. Everything in Kinn’s body felt old and unused, like a forgotten machine in need or oiling.

Even as he ate, Kinn’s eyes felt heavy. But he kept going. Fluids, carbs, protein. He needed those as much as he needed to cum, during a rut. And if he was going to hold out for help to find him, he needed all the strength he could muster. Chewing and drinking and chewing, Kinn fell asleep in the chair, with food still in his mouth.

***

“I’m sorry,” Tawan said as he placed a tiny, blinking tracker on the bed, beside Kinn. “I’m s-sorry for what I did, but I’m also sorry for everything that happened when I woke up.”

As Tawan spoke, Kinn picked up the tracker. It was still blinking a bright green.

“I was going to leave you like that, but there was cum all over you and… other disgusting bodily fluids. So I took your clothes off and cleaned you up. I’m sorry I did that, too.”

Kinn closed his fist around the tracker.

“But I found that when I was sorting your clothes to be washed,” Tawan said, gesturing at the tracker. “It’s broadcasting your current location, right?”

Kinn nodded.

“It’s been five days. Six,” he corrected. “And yet, no one has come for you, Kinn. Your family hasn’t heard from you and there’s a functioning tracker, and yet they haven’t used it.”

“Maybe they don’t know I’m missing.”

“After six days?” Tawan asked. “Do you usually go missing without a word?”

Never. Kinn always made it a point to tell someone. Papa, Mama, Tankhun. Someone. With the amount of attempts on their lives, they’d grown up knowing that no matter how angry or sad or in need of some personal time that you were, you had to check in. Someone had to know that you were alright, or guards would come for you.

“We already knew my father did this to us. I guess now, we know your father was in on it, too.”

Kinn didn’t want to believe it. Papa wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t make such a permanent decision without discussing it with Kinn, first. Mama wouldn’t let him. A mating? That was serious shit. If something had gone wrong, if Tawan had been too frenzied and had bitten Kinn, while Kinn was unable to reciprocate… if Tawan had refused to let Kinn bite him back, things could have been incredibly fucked for Kinn.

Not to mention the fact that Kinn didn’t even want to be bitten by Tawan in the first place. 

If Papa had agreed to this…

Kinn didn’t know what to say to that. 

Which meant that Kinn was all on his own. No one was coming to get him. If he was going to be free, he had to get out all on his own.

***

Tawan drew him a map, laying out the many routes Kinn could take to leave. Kinn’s wrists were bandaged, and beginning to heal, but his body wasn’t quite hundred percent. He hadn't fully recovered from the rut. He wasn’t even sure the rut was over. But he could walk around the room, so he was sure he could jog his way out. He’d need a gun. The guard who always brought their food had one. 

When he came to give them lunch, Kinn jumped him from behind as Tawan closed the door. They pushed the trolley off to the side.

“Go,” Tawan said, giving Kinn the guard’s walkie-talkie. “So that you hear how they’re moving.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I’ll slow you down.” Tawan searched for sheets to use to tie the guard. “I’ll keep him here so you have a head start. Go.”

“But-”

“He’s my father. What’s he going to do to me?”

Kinn could have pointed out the many things a kidnapping, coitus-forcing, dart-shooting father could do to his child. He could have mentioned just how dreadful things could get for Tawan if he stayed behind. But he didn’t. Because, in that moment, Kinn was feeling a little selfish. Tawan was right. He would slow Kinn down and Kinn needed to worry about himself out there.

When he got free, he’d come back for Tawan. He’d make sure Tawan was fine. He just had to set himself free, first.

“Be careful,” Kinn said.

Tawan pushed him towards the door. As soon as Kinn was out, Tawan locked the door behind him. Checking the gun for bullets, Kinn stayed close to the wall as he ran down the corridor, leading to the elevator.

He’d come into the house unconscious, but he had Tawan’s map and info. He’d be out in no time. The next time he saw the councilman, Kinn would be armed with so much more than a tiny, hand gun.