Gawin woke up sore.

Not just sore in his body—
but a hollow kind of ache, carved deep into his bones, bleeding quietly into every thought.

He felt like an animal trapped in a cage—
desperate to escape,
yet not knowing where to run.

Every time he opened his eyes,
the first thing he felt was...

Self-loathing.

He hated himself.

Hated that he had let Joss touch him again.

Hated that he hadn't said no.

But most of all—

He hated how his body had betrayed his mind.

Why?

Why, even knowing this relationship would only end in ruin—
even knowing who Joss Wayar really was—
even knowing he should have escaped long ago—

Why did he always come back?

Joss woke up with a low, dull ache pounding behind his temples.

The scent of Winter Eclipse still clung to the bedsheets, to his skin, to his bones.

He had slept with Gawin again.

And the worst part was—

He didn't feel guilty.

He should have been angry.

He should have felt disgusted with himself for losing control under Gawin's pheromones.

He should have hated the fact that every time he touched Gawin,
he became a desperate addict needing a fix he knew was poisonous.

But all he could think was—

He wanted more.

He wanted to touch Gawin again.
Wanted to hear him gasp again.
Wanted to pin him down again.

He wanted to mark him deeper—
so deep that no one else could ever erase it.

The next morning, they faced each other again.

Same roles.

Superior and subordinate.

Joss sat behind his executive desk, eyes flickering over reports, pretending that last night had never happened.

When Gawin entered the office, perfectly composed with a neat stack of documents, Joss immediately sensed something different.

It wasn't the coffee.

It wasn't cologne.

It was a faint trace of mint—
a sharp, cold scent slicing through the sterile air like a hidden blade.

It disappeared almost instantly.
But for a brief second, Joss knew.

That was real.

That was Gawin's pheromone.

Joss said nothing.

He shifted his chair slightly closer.
Just to be sure.

Across the desk, Gawin stood as perfectly poised as ever.

No sign of last night on his face.
No exhaustion.
No emotion.

It was as if Joss was nothing more than a stranger to him.

Joss hated it.

He wanted to shatter that calm.

"Assistant Kittiwattanakul," he said, voice low and mocking.

"Did you sleep well last night?"

Gawin's face didn't twitch.

He simply glanced over, replying coolly.

"Well enough."

A completely detached answer.

No blush.
No shame.
Nothing left over from last night's fire.

Joss gripped his pen a little tighter.

He sneered.

"Funny. I seem to remember someone trembling so badly they had to cling onto me just to stay upright."

Gawin's expression remained neutral.

Only for a flicker of a second—
so fast that anyone else might have missed it—
his eyes turned colder.

And then he smiled.

A smile so slight it was razor-sharp.

"If the CEO wishes to flatter himself, be my guest," Gawin said smoothly.

Joss stiffened.

For a moment, he was speechless.

Gawin had struck back.

Not by getting angry.
Not by retreating.

But by slicing his ego open with cold indifference.

By refusing to treat him like something powerful.

By refusing to need him.

Joss chuckled under his breath.

"I like the way you always fight back, Fluke."

He leaned back in his chair, eyes gleaming.

"But I wonder..."

"How long do you think you can keep it up?"

Gawin didn't flinch.

He nodded politely.

"Let's find out, shall we?"

He turned and walked out, cool as ever, as if it were just another boring business meeting.

Joss watched him go.

A deep, ugly frustration boiled in his chest.

It wasn't because Gawin was stubborn.

It was because he couldn't control Gawin the way he wanted.

Joss remembered too clearly—

The image of Gawin gasping for breath under him.
The bloodied lips.
The raw defiance in his eyes.

Not a submissive Omega.
But a cornered animal baring its fangs until the very end.

The more Joss tried to touch him,
the further Gawin pulled away.

The more Joss tried to claim him,
the colder Gawin became.

And it was driving him mad.

Meanwhile, outside the CEO's office, Gawin walked briskly back to his own workspace.

He closed the door behind him.
Sat down.
Gripped the edge of the desk with trembling fingers.

His breathing was not as steady as it had appeared.

Sweat slicked his palms.

Joss was pushing harder every day.

Little by little, Gawin was losing his ability to stay detached.

Last night, when Joss bit down on his neck, when he forced Gawin to admit—
not with words, but with moans and shudders—
that he wanted this too...

Gawin knew.

He had already lost.

Not because he couldn't resist.

But because he didn't want to resist anymore.

But he couldn't let Joss see it.

He couldn't afford that.

Because if Joss ever realized—

He would never let Gawin go.

Gawin clenched his jaw.

He told himself:

Just a little longer.

Just a little more.

Hold on to your sanity a little longer.

Because this game wasn't over yet.

And he wasn't going to be the one who lost.