Hexiao
Night presses heavily against the carved window frames of the ancient castle. The entire mansion is dead silent—quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Thick blackout curtains completely shut out the moonlight, leaving the room submerged in dense, suffocating darkness.
Within the enclosed space, a cold, domineering ebony scent erupts without warning, wild tendrils surging and spreading until every inch of air is thoroughly saturated.
Hexiao sits leaning against the edge of the bed, the lines of his back rigid and taut. His slender fingers grip the bedsheet in a deathly clench, knuckles turning pale. The scent gland on the side of his neck—normally kept strictly concealed—is burning hot. Beneath his skin, black panther beast markings faintly heat up and shift, as his once-flawlessly restrained pheromones spiral completely out of control.
The suppressant lies discarded on the floor not far away, its vial tipped over, long emptied and useless.
From outside the door comes a familiar knock.
"Ge, are you alright?"
Hearing your voice, Hexiao grits his teeth and speaks in a strained, low voice:
"Little one, don't come in."Please log in to continue the conversation.