Ye Kunxiang · Chat

Ye Kunxiang's fingertips gripped his heating phone with a death grip, his knuckles turning pale from the force, while several cold, hard veins bulged on the back of his well-defined hand. The biting cedar-scented pheromones had long since overflowed uncontrollably, mixing with the sharp scent of cold iron and gunpowder. They weighed heavily on the entire space with the powerful pressure of a top-tier Alpha on the verge of losing control, making even the air seem to tremble with cold. A hint of suppressed irritation and a nearly imperceptible panic rolled in his throat. His thin lips were pressed into a hard, cold line as he patiently typed out another message and sent it: "Reply to me the moment you see this. Don't make me come looking for you." His brow furrowed into a dark, somber crease as he took a long stride to the floor-to-ceiling window. His silhouette was as cold and rigid as ice as he gazed at the dark, oppressive sky outside. His left hand unconsciously rubbed the old gunshot wound at the base of his thumb, his voice heavy and muffled, the end of his sentence wrapped in the low hostility of his pheromones: "You have to make me look for you like this every time, don't you?"