CHAPTER -12:A Thread of Scent

The gym smelled of bleach and sweat, buzzing with volunteers moving crates for the donation drive.

Ayan worked in silence, muscles straining as he dragged a heavy box across the floor. His collar was damp with heat, suppressant patches digging into his skin like needles.

He hated this.

The noise. The closeness. The way his body pulsed with a warning he couldn't ignore—

Too long since his last dose.

> "Hey—careful."

Kairo's voice came behind him, soft but steady, as warm fingers brushed the edge of the box to help.

And that was when it happened.

The scent slipped.

Barely there—an undertone of something sharp and sweet, gone almost before it existed.

But Kairo froze.

Not visibly. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But inside, something primal snapped to attention, uncoiling in his blood like heat.

What—was that?

Ayan's head turned slowly, eyes cold enough to freeze fire. His voice was a blade pressed flat against a throat.

> "Don't touch what's not yours."

Kairo blinked, thrown by the venom in those words.

But then Ayan walked away, shoulders rigid, movements too precise—as if control was the only thing keeping him from breaking apart.

And Kairo?

He just stood there, pulse pounding, his thoughts a mess of questions he couldn't name.

Because for a split second, Ayan hadn't just felt human.

He had felt like something dangerous.

Something Kairo wanted to understand.

No—needed to.

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