He was marked

Warning: R18 🔥

Zixuan stirred awake as a wave of unfamiliar warmth swept over him. His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked slowly at the unfamiliar ceiling above—white walls and thick cream curtains. 

He blinked quickly, confused. 

*Where the hell am I?* 

He turned to observe his surroundings and realized four things at once: 

One—This wasn't his room. 

Two—He was on a bed that didn't belong to him. 

Three—He was barely clothed. 

Four—There was someone beside him. 

Turning his head slowly, he froze. 

Haoran. His worst enemy. Images of their fight played like a film in his memory at that moment. 

The alpha lay beside him, fully dressed but clearly disheveled, his dark hair messy. His face was peaceful, the steady rise and fall of his chest making Zixuan fully aware that he was asleep. 

Zixuan's heart beat faster than usual. *What the hell is going on? Did something happen?* 

He tried to sit up, but his muscles trembled. 

And then it hit him—memories of yesterday. 

The embarrassment he felt when his friend caught him flirting with his sister. The waiter spilling a drink on him. His heat. He remembered clearly how he was about to be raped by that old man. 

Then he… 

Zixuan looked at Haoran's sleeping figure. *He saved me.* 

*Why did he do that?* Zixuan muttered, confused. Didn't they hate each other? Why would he help his enemy? Or did he want Zixuan to owe him? 

Zixuan was lost in thought, searching for a valid reason Haoran would save him. 

"Mm—" Zixuan moaned aloud as a low, curling ache settled in his lower belly, warmth pulsing between his legs. 

*Not again.* 

Zixuan's heat had what they called stages. This was the last stage—the most difficult one. 

The suppressant had already worn off. 

Zixuan clenched the sheets, trying to steady his breath. Sweat broke out across his forehead. His legs shifted restlessly on the sheets. 

He bit his lip hard as his throat let out a soft sound—a whimper he tried to hide but failed. 

Beside him, Haoran stirred awake. 

Feeling the shift on the bed, Zixuan tried to roll away, desperate not to let the alpha smell him. 

But it was too late. 

"Zixuan…" Haoran's voice was hoarse. 

"Don't—" Zixuan whimpered. "Just stay. Don't move." 

His behavior was suspicious. 

Haoran sat up instantly. "Your scent." 

His tone dropped as realization hit him. The whole room was thick with Zixuan's pheromones—a sweet, heavy scent wrapping around Haoran like temptation, calling him to unleash his primal instinct. 

Zixuan groaned as the heat embraced his whole body. "I need suppressants." 

Haoran stood up, slightly confused, the pheromones already affecting his senses. "I'll call Tianyu." 

Zixuan reached out and grabbed Haoran's hand. "No time for that." 

Their eyes locked in a deep gaze. 

Haoran hesitated, his alpha instinct fighting at the edge of control. 

"You need to leave," Zixuan said, his eyes filled with lust. "Or else I'll do something you'll regret." 

*What alpha would like being topped?* 

But Haoran didn't move. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he fought against the desire pounding in his blood. 

Zixuan's grip on his wrist tightened. 

And in the next moment, all reason vanished. 

Their mouths collided. 

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet like a normal couple's kiss. It was raw and full of need. Zixuan moaned as he arched against Haoran, hands gripping and tearing at his clothes without hesitation. 

Embarrassed that he was about to do something inappropriate with his enemy, he whispered, "I hate you." 

"I know." 

Determined to take control, Zixuan pushed Haoran back onto the bed and climbed on top of him to show his dominance. His hand pressed against Haoran's chest. "I'm not like those omegas you sleep with. I can't be tossed around." 

Haoran looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

Zixuan wanted to show how good he was at dominating, but his tired, burning body betrayed him. His arms shook and trembled. 

Haoran gave him a long, unreadable look. Then, with a fluid move, he flipped Zixuan beneath him, pinning him down. 

"Sorry. You're not in control today," Haoran whispered against his ear. 

Zixuan's eyes widened in realization. "Let me go—" 

"No." 

Haoran didn't give Zixuan another chance to protest. His mouth captured Zixuan's again—this time slower, deeper, tasting the sweetness of his surrender. Zixuan's fingers curled into the sheets, his pride screaming at him to push back, to regain control. But every breath he took was thick with pheromones, every brush of Haoran's skin against his like fire licking his nerves. 

"You don't want to do this," Zixuan threatened weakly, though his body arched up on its own, seeking friction, seeking relief. 

"You don't want me to stop," Haoran said flatly, his voice low and rough with restraint. 

Zixuan turned his face away, jaw clenched. But his legs parted slightly on instinct. 

Haoran's hand trailed down Zixuan's side—slow, firm, exploring the heat radiating from his burning skin. The ache was too much. Zixuan's heat had peaked, and now there was no retreat. 

When Haoran finally aligned their bodies and pressed forward, Zixuan gasped—a soft, involuntary sound that betrayed just how sensitive he had become. 

"Don't—ah—" Zixuan tried to hide the moan, but it spilled out before he could stop it. 

Haoran moved with patience at first, giving Zixuan time to adjust, to breathe, to grasp onto what little control he had left. But when Zixuan's legs instinctively wrapped around his waist—a silent invitation—all patience dissolved. 

Each thrust sent jolts through Zixuan's body. He clawed at Haoran's back, trying to use pain to anchor himself, to stop the heat from drowning him. But he was unraveling—bit by bit—with every snap of Haoran's hips and every rough kiss that stole his breath. 

He hated how Haoran felt inside him. He hated the way his own body betrayed him even more. 

"Let me—" Zixuan growled through clenched teeth, trying one last time to flip Haoran, to reclaim even a scrap of dominance. 

But Haoran caught his wrists and pinned them above his head, staring into his eyes with a gaze that burned. 

"No." 

Zixuan's pupils dilated at that word. 

"I hate you," he hissed. 

"I know," Haoran murmured, lips brushing over his cheek. "But you still want me." 

Zixuan turned his face again, too humiliated to answer. His moans became shorter, sharper, desperate. His body tensed, and his inner walls tightened uncontrollably. 

Haoran groaned. "Shit—Zixuan—" 

And then it happened. 

Without planning to, without even thinking, Haoran's instincts took over. He leaned down and sank his teeth into the side of Zixuan's neck—hard enough to break skin, to seal a mark. 

Zixuan's back arched violently as a guttural cry escaped him. The mix of pleasure, pain, and the claiming overwhelmed him. 

Their bodies stilled after the final thrust. Haoran collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily. 

Zixuan lay beneath him, limbs trembling, neck stinging. 

*He was marked.* 

His eyes fluttered shut, his chest rising and falling as the fire of his heat dulled into lingering warmth. 

"I hate you…" he whispered, barely audible, voice broken and exhausted. 

Haoran pulled back slightly, brushing Zixuan's sweaty hair from his face. 

"Yeah," he said softly, voice unreadable. "I know."