Julien's skin felt like fire.
No amount of water, no handful of blockers, no cold shower had helped. His veins throbbed with a sickly heat, his body betraying him in ways that left him raw and trembling. He curled his hands into the bedsheets, forcing himself not to whimper, forcing himself to breathe.
Not yet. Please, not now…
The sweet edge of his scent seeped into the room anyway, growing stronger with every heartbeat. Suppression patches blistered angrily against his skin, failing to mask the tide breaking free. His body wasn't just hinting at heat anymore — it was demanding, clawing, suffocating.
And outside his door, Julien could feel it.
Damien.
The alpha's presence pressed against his walls like a storm waiting to break. Julien knew without seeing — Damien had followed again, had refused to leave, standing guard like a shadow that wouldn't fade.
Julien wanted to scream at him to go.
Julien wanted to beg him to stay.
The contradiction tore him apart until his chest ached.
---
When the knock finally came, Julien almost jumped out of his skin.
"Julien."
His name — deep, commanding, steady. Julien's breath caught, the sound vibrating through his body like a second heartbeat.
"I know you're awake."
Julien clenched his fists tighter. "Go home."
A pause. Then:
"No."
The doorknob rattled once, firm but restrained. "You're not okay. I'm not leaving you like this."
"I don't need you!" Julien's voice cracked on the last word, humiliatingly thin.
A silence followed, heavy and sharp. And then Damien's voice again, lower, rougher, closer to breaking:
"Then hate me later. But open the door."
Julien squeezed his eyes shut, every nerve on fire. His body screamed for alpha, for anchor, for Damien. But his pride, his fear, screamed louder.
He staggered toward the door, meaning to tell him off, meaning to shove him away. But when he pulled it open—
Damien filled the doorway like a wall of heat and scent.
The sharp smoke-pine of him crashed into Julien's sweetness, colliding in the small space like a thunderclap. Damien's pupils dilated instantly, breath stuttering as his control visibly frayed. His hand twitched at his side, fighting the instinct to grab, hold, claim.
Julien stumbled back, his body betraying him with a needy shiver. "Don't," he whispered, hating the desperation in his tone.
Damien stepped inside anyway.
---
The room felt too small for both of them. Damien towered in the center, fists flexing, jaw tight, fighting himself with every second.
"You're burning," he rasped. "Julien, you can't go through this alone."
Julien's laugh came out bitter, broken. "And what? Let you swoop in like every storybook alpha, play the savior? Is that what you want?"
Damien's eyes snapped to his, blazing. "I don't give a damn about stories. I care about you."
The words slammed into Julien harder than any touch. His throat closed, tears stinging his eyes. He shook his head violently, backing further until his calves hit the bed. "No. Don't say that. Don't—"
Damien followed, slow, deliberate, every step crackling with restraint.
"You think I don't see it?" His voice was low, fierce. "How much you're hurting. How much you hide. You think you're a burden. You think needing someone makes you weak. But you're wrong."
Julien's chest heaved, caught between fury and despair. "Stop talking like you know me."
"I do know you." Damien's voice broke, rough and raw. "Because I've been watching you tear yourself apart since the day we met."
Julien's knees buckled. He wanted to scream at him, hit him, anything to break this unbearable weight pressing in from all sides. But when Damien reached out — slowly, carefully — and his fingers brushed Julien's damp hair back from his forehead, Julien didn't move. Couldn't.
The touch was fire.
Julien gasped, shoving Damien's hand away, but it was too late. His scent spilled stronger into the air, rich and sweet, betraying his need.
Damien's control snapped.
He surged forward, bracing one arm against the wall behind Julien, caging him in. His chest rose and fell like he'd run a marathon, his scent flooding the room thick and suffocating.
Julien pressed back against the wall, trembling. "Damien—"
"Say it." Damien's voice was a growl, trembling with restraint. "Say you don't want me, and I'll leave."
Julien's lips parted, the word on the edge of his tongue. But nothing came out. His body screamed a different truth, his heat pulling, pulling, pulling toward the alpha before him.
Damien's eyes darkened, pupils blown wide. "Julien…"
The moment teetered on the edge of breaking — one breath away from no return.
And that's when the window shattered.
---
Glass rained across the floor. Julien screamed, stumbling sideways, but Damien's arm caught him before he could fall. A shadow crashed through the window, then another, then another — heavy boots thudding against the floorboards, the stink of foreign alphas filling the room.
"Finally found him," one sneered, eyes gleaming as they locked on Julien.
Damien shoved Julien behind him, his entire body shifting into lethal focus. His growl shook the walls, sharp and violent. "Touch him, and you die."
The intruders laughed, circling. "Protective, aren't you? How sweet. But you can't take all of us."
Julien's heart pounded in his throat. His heat made everything worse — his scent spilling into the room, a beacon screaming omega, omega, omega. The intruders' eyes glowed with hunger.
Damien launched first.
He moved like a blade — fists slamming, body twisting, every strike fueled by fury. One intruder hit the wall with a sickening crack. Another staggered back with blood spraying from his nose.
But there were too many.
Hands clawed at Damien's arms, fists driving into his ribs. The room became chaos — bodies colliding, snarls and shouts, Julien's panicked breaths filling the gaps.
"Damien!" Julien cried, clutching the bedframe, too weak to move, too terrified to interfere.
Damien roared, slamming one attacker into the floor, his scent blasting dominance into every corner of the room. For a heartbeat, Julien believed he would win — that nothing could bring Damien down.
Then a rough hand seized Julien's arm.
He gasped, twisting, but the grip was iron. "Got you," the intruder hissed, yanking him away from the bed.
"NO!" Damien's voice tore like thunder. He ripped free from two attackers, veins bulging with fury, eyes wild. "You will not touch what's mine!"
The declaration rang like fire through the night. Julien's heart stopped, every cell alight with the word mine.
But before he could even process, before he could answer — whether to reject, to accept, to scream — another intruder barreled past Damien and seized Julien's other wrist.
Julien cried out, panic flooding him. Two sets of hands dragged at him, pulling him away, tearing him from Damien's reach.
"JULIEN!"
Damien lunged. His hand closed around Julien's, their fingers locking for a split second, desperate, burning.
Julien's eyes widened, breath shattering.
And then —
The grip was ripped apart.
Rough hands dragged Julien back into the dark.
Damien's roar shook the house. "LET HIM GO!"
Julien's last glimpse was Damien's face — wild, furious, breaking — before the world tilted into chaos, and the night swallowed him whole.
---
End of Season 1.