Joss Wayar had never believed in fate.

He only believed in power, control, and the things he could grasp firmly in his own hands.

But now, he was losing control.

The heat simmered inside him, wild and uncontainable.

The last time he had felt this way...
was that night.
The night he encountered him in the hotel elevator.

But this time, there was no drug.
No chemical interference.
No external catalyst.

It was happening naturally.

Without reason.
Without warning.
Without any way to stop it.

Golden Prison—the pheromone he wielded like an invisible weapon—was spilling out, unbound, flooding the room like a tidal wave demanding submission.

Joss leaned heavily against the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, eyes darkening.

Outside, Bangkok glittered under the night sky.

Inside, the room was locked.

And only two people remained.

Him.

And Fluke Wichit Kittiwattanakul.

⸻

A few minutes earlier.

It all started with a tiny mistake from Gawin.

Not a mistake in work.
Not a flaw in the reports.

Just a fleeting moment—
when he approached Joss's desk, laying down a stack of documents, and unknowingly left behind the faintest trace of scent in the air.

Winter Eclipse.

A fragrance, cold, pure, elusive.

A whisper of green tea and mint, barely there.

Joss had grown used to not smelling anything from him.
The suppressants masked everything too perfectly.

But in that brief instant—

He caught it.

The tiniest thread of pheromone slipping through Gawin's defences.

Barely noticeable.

Yet enough to rip open a memory long buried under the skin.

Joss looked up sharply.

"You..."

Gawin froze.

Not from fear.

But because he knew—
Joss had figured it out.

Slowly, Joss rose from his seat, the tension coiling inside him like a serpent.

"You told me you were a Beta."

His voice was low. Dangerous.

Gawin didn't answer immediately.

His eyes dimmed, calculating something at lightning speed.

But Joss wasn't about to give him time.

The wildfire inside him was spreading fast.

His breathing grew heavier.

One step forward.

Gawin instinctively stepped back.

But the door behind him was locked.

No way out.

Joss clenched his fists, struggling to hold onto the shreds of his rationality.

"You thought I wouldn't notice?"

Gawin met his gaze directly.

Silence stretched between them.

And then—

Gawin laughed.

A dry, cold laugh.

"Is that so?"

He reached up, loosened his tie casually, and looked at Joss with a calm, almost mocking glint in his eye.

"So what, CEO Wayar?"

"What are you planning to do to me now?"

⸻

Joss snapped.

Alpha instincts roared to the surface.

He grabbed Gawin, slammed him against the cold window.

A hand clamped firmly around Gawin's waist, trapping him.

Gawin tilted his head slightly, voice still steady despite the heat radiating between them.

"So the great Joss Wayar can be triggered... by a Beta?"

Joss growled softly.

He hated how calm Gawin sounded.

Not pleading.
Not begging.
Not afraid.

Just cold. Detached. Dangerous.

Joss gritted his teeth.

"Then let me show you—"

"What it really means to lose control."

⸻

His teeth sank into Gawin's skin.

A vicious, deliberate bite.

Enough to let his pheromone sink deep.

Golden Prison.
Winter Eclipse.

Amber and leather seared into mint and rain.

A storm.

Velvet Storm.

Gawin gasped sharply.

The pain licked down his spine like fire.

He didn't cry out.
But he trembled.

And Joss felt it.

⸻

"Joss..."

Gawin's voice cracked.

But Joss didn't let go.

He licked the fresh bite, murmuring low against Gawin's burning skin:

"I won't mark you permanently."

His breath scorched Gawin's ear.

"But from now on—you're mine."

⸻

Neither moved.

Only ragged breaths tangled between them.

Gawin bit his lip hard.

His body screamed at him to push Joss away.
To tear free.
To run.

But he didn't.

And that was the worst betrayal of all.

⸻

Joss finally stepped back, staring at him.

Gawin touched the bite on his neck.

It burned.

The room stank of pheromones—thick and clinging.

He couldn't breathe properly.

Without another word, Gawin turned on his heel and left.

⸻

Joss didn't stop him.

He only watched the slim figure disappear through the door.

His own gaze is dark and bottomless.

The addiction had begun.

Officially.

⸻

Outside the office.

Gawin clutched the steel railing inside the elevator, breathing through gritted teeth.

He didn't look at his reflection.

Didn't need to.

He could feel the heat radiating off his skin.
Could feel the phantom imprint of Joss's pheromones soaking into his bones.

Inside him, something twisted painfully.

Not fear.
Not shame.
Not desire.

But something much worse.

Self-contempt.

"I thought I could walk into this game with my head held high."

"But when did I start letting myself get branded like this?"

He closed his eyes.

The elevator hummed, carrying him downward.

The bite wasn't permanent.

But the humiliation would last far longer.

⸻