CHAPTER 64: "IT WASN’T ME WHO TRIED TO KILL YOU THAT NIGHT."

"What are you waiting for?"

Le An hadn’t even adapted to the scent of Taras’s pheromones yet when Taras asked the question, and for a moment, he couldn’t understand what he was supposed to do. "What... do you mean?"

"Aren’t you supposed to attack me?" Taras opened his arms toward Le An, making a gesture as if to say come at me. Was Taras actually expecting him to attack?

"I-I... I’m never the one to start the attack. If you come at me first, then I’ll fight back," Le An said, explaining to him what he had always done with Theo up until now. He only knew about defense and escape.

Taras looked at Le An’s face with even less understanding. Attack him?

Le An swallowed and, realizing he needed to clarify, added a few more words. "Like trying to restrain me or hit me..." He stepped one foot back, took a stance that reinforced his posture, and raised his arms in a guarded position ready for any move.

Taras was still watching him, and when his lips finally parted, the words that came out might have been exactly what had crossed his mind. "Who would ever hit Treasure?"

Le An’s stance faltered for a moment, and his shoulders dropped. "Anyone who tries to restrain me might attempt it..." he finally murmured.

Taras tilted his head. "Has this ever happened before?"

At that question, Le An froze completely, standing before him again in utter defenselessness. Taras asked once more. "Has anyone ever hit you before?"

"No," Le An said, though his voice carried traces that what he was saying wasn’t entirely true. No one had ever hit Treasure; however, in his past life, Le An had been bullied countless times.

After what he had gone through recently, in fact... for a moment, Le An thought he would have preferred being shoved around, even hit, instead of everything that had happened. But when the worn expression on his face unknowingly caused Taras’s pheromones to intensify, that thought slipped from his mind.

Taras, on the other hand, was now thinking about who could have possibly raised a hand against Treasure despite all the hatred he himself harbored yet never acted on. An esper? Perhaps one of those moneybags in the private rooms? Or... that bastard, Mr. Qui?

"Hu..." When Le An let out a deep breath, only then did Taras pull his mind back to the present moment they were in. Yes, Treasure was right before him, his skin now slowly being enveloped by Taras’s pheromones. Taras swallowed, his eyes catching on the rise and fall of Le An’s Adam’s apple.

When Taras reached his hand toward Le An’s neck, Le An swept it away—not with overwhelming strength, but with a practiced, clever move that showed it had been rehearsed. At the same time, his other hand rose, prepared for a strike sharp enough to cut off Taras’s breath, and stopped just a hair’s breadth away.

Taras looked at him as if that move hadn’t made even a single strand of him stir. Le An, now leaning closer into the pheromones, lifted his chin defiantly, pulled his hand back from Taras’s neck, and murmured, "Next, I’ll strike right there."

Taras tried another move, attempting to pin Le An by wrapping his arms around his waist from both sides. Le An, his raspy breath filling the room, twisted his arm to counterattack, but Taras deflected that as well with ease, forcing Le An to pull back again.

Taras repeated the move, but this time he bent down, trying to seize Le An’s body even more forcefully. Le An used the same defense, but this time Taras moved faster, grabbing the other arm he was about to use, and with one arm, captured Le An’s body.

When Le An threw his full body weight into that arm and barely managed to slip free of the hold, he was left panting heavily. "Ha... ha..."

Taras looked at the Le An who had once again slipped just a step away from him with an indescribable expression. This sparring pleased him, yet at the same time, each time distance grew between them, that pleasure lost its charm. "It’s clear you’ve mastered a few tricks," Taras murmured, stepping forward again.

The chilling expression of a hunter closing in on its prey. Like a predator toying with its catch. What shone in his eyes... was thrill.

Le An stepped back, wiping the beads of sweat from his face with the back of his hand. He avoided his eyes, but his heartbeat was quickening. "Y-you can raise it a little more now, your pheromones."

Taras, with a cold expression, stared at Le An’s body, which was visibly weakening. To endure this much pheromone release was an accomplishment in itself, no doubt. But what could he do when he could no longer endure? "How about this?" Taras asked as he released a little more pheromone.

Now, as the scent clung to his skin like dew, tickling his insides, Le An momentarily forgot what he had murmured. "...Good."

Ha... Taras released even more pheromone.

Le An, struggling to keep his body upright as if defying collapse, stood tall with stubborn effort, while Taras studied his flushed cheeks, his neck, and every limb one by one. From the panic in Le An’s eyes, Taras knew he was releasing pheromones at a dangerously high level.

But... wasn’t that the whole purpose of this training?

"This..." Le An staggered back a step, casting a glance through his lashes filled with involuntary reproach. "This is a bit... Ah!"

When Taras once again wrapped his arms tightly around Le An’s body, a cry of startled shock escaped Le An’s lips. It was far too late to defend himself now.

Taras’s arms had locked around his body tightly. Le An tried to push himself free, but every attempt was drained of strength by Taras’s scent—his scent.

And Taras had no intention of letting go of the body he had so effortlessly lifted onto his fingertips. The more Le An struggled, the harder he collided into Taras’s chest. Taras laughed. "You won’t escape this."

Le An shivered for a moment, raised his head, and met his eyes. Maybe realizing Taras was right, this time he pressed his hands against his nose, trying to avoid inhaling the scent.

Taras, now watching Le An’s grimaced face, seized his hand and forced it down, and in doing so, trembling red lips came into view as Le An breathed. Their bodies clashed in chaotic discord as Taras slid one leg between Le An’s and finally pressed him against the wall.

"Stop struggling," Taras said, as Le An fought like a frightened bird to slip from his arms. "Just focus on not releasing your own pheromones."

Le An shivered at the sensation of Taras’s leg brushing against a burning, sensitive spot inside his thigh and began pushing at him again. "Ha... hic, no—"

"Shut it and hold on longer. We’ll stop when you can’t take it anymore."

At last, Le An gave up trying to push him away, nodding with reluctant acceptance. "Then... Sh-should I start guiding you?"

Now, the way Le An looked at him from within his arms stirred something inside Taras, and as everything since the first moment he’d seen Le An slipped from his mind, he swallowed, unable to find a trace of hostility in the fragile expression on Le An’s face.

From beginning to end, Le An had been the same toward him. Unaffected by his agression.

It’s me who’s changed, Taras thought. And even this change unsettled him. It unsettled himself. "What am I supposed to do with you..?" Taras muttered, while Le An, nervous, waited for an answer.

Annoyingly, Le An’s expression only grew more pained at those words.

"Start guiding," Taras tightened his grip on him. Right now, he needed to be taking something from this body just to stop himself from consuming it entirely.

His eyes roamed Le An’s amber eyes speckled with green, the small mole where his lips met, and his snow-white skin, as if to tear him apart with his gaze.

Breathless, Le An seemed to lose his mental control even more under that stare, as though falling deeper into some spell. Taras placed his hand on Le An’s neck, his fingers at the nape. Le An, looking at him with even more helplessness, clutched at his wrist almost pleadingly. "It’s too much, p-please..."

Le An tried to push his hand away, but Taras forced his hand down and completely cupped the nape of his neck. "This is how you’ll guide," he said, his patience wearing thin. "With your neck. Start."

"Why—hn..." Le An bit his lower lip, trying not to make a foolish sound, and for a moment let his head fall back against the palm covering his nape, as if making room. Taras’s heart stuttered, but then Le An gathered himself, bowed his head, and nodded as if to show acceptance. "Okay. Okay, ha..."

Slowly, Le An began guiding Taras, perhaps with the most scattered flow of energy. Now, the energy flowing from that small body into him was already beginning to satisfy Taras like quenching a thirst. Taras watched him. Even the sight of Le An’s damp lashes pleased him for a moment.

After two minutes passed without problem, Le An started to feel exhausted as he tried to mentally fight with the pheromones. The smell was intoxicating him, at every moment he tried to hold his breath and inhale right after becoming breathless, the smell was filling his lungs immediately.

On the other side, he was trying hard to avoid gazing at Taras’s face. He was watching him quietly from above. Le An felt his guide energy was consumed faster after a time. Right at that instant, he heard Taras’s voice and felt his hot breath on his forehead. "Guide me stronger."

"Y-yes..." Le An released more energy, which made the body that pressing him falter a bit. Taras inhaled, feeling all the sudden energy flowing in his body. He squeezed Le An’s neck and didn’t take his eyes on his facial expressions. "I’ll emit more too." He said.

Le An lifted his head quickly, as if wanting to refuse. But when he saw the expression on Taras’s face, his heart clenched. On Taras’s face...

Le An swallowed and lowered his head again. His heart could burst out of his chest now. Why was Taras looking at him like that?

As if he... desired him. "Hic..."

Why was he treating him differently... right now? This closure... it was messing with his mind.

Taras’s pheromones enveloped around them slowly. Le An struggled to keep his body upright. His belly felt weak and he tried to gain power by leaning on the wall more.

"Ungh..." He shut his mouth imeddiately and closed his eyes. His mind was a mess, those eyes he had just seen must have been a trick his mind was playing.

Inside, he was torn between wanting to strike Taras, cling to him tightly, and ask why... why then?

The air, the proximity and the palm that pressed on his neck was hot. His eyes got blurry slowly. He couldn’t maintain his posture after a while and wavered. His body leaned on Taras’s chest but he pulled himself back abruptly, only to waver and fall into his chest again.

Again and again.

At the last, he couldn’t pull his body back from his.

Taras, a thrilling look forming on his face unseen by him, looked at Le An as if the result he had been waiting for had finally come. Le An, as if accepting defeat, couldn’t even lift his head.

He didn’t have the strength anymore. The moment he felt the warmth of Taras’s body, all the defense mechanisms in his mind had already collapsed.

"You’re still holding yourself back," Taras murmured, inhaling the scent of Le An’s nape.

Le An just stayed leaned on his chest, unable to answer. His body was tingling, most of all his neck. His glands were burning up to give an answer to this alpha in front of him.

Then, He raised his head and quickly stole a glance of Taras’s face. His hands acted by themselves and he held his shirt, crumbling it in his palms to touch him, somehow.

His mental resilience was about to crash completely. Taras could see it too.

But the fear, panic, and sorrow were still there. As Le An clung tightly to Taras’s collar, he finally lifted his head completely and, in a way Taras hadn’t expected, looked at him on the verge of tears, lost in confusion.

When Taras’s leg brushed against the inside of his thigh again, his body jolted and a sob slipped from Le An’s lips, causing the first tear to fall. "Hnngh, stop... please,"

Taras buried his fingers into Le An’s soft hair and for a while, just stared frozen at his face.

Le An wanted to say something to him, ask something, but couldn’t. His lips, his body, his lashes trembled. Taras lifted his hand and pressed his thumb right on that mole at the corner of his lips.

His voice came out softer and more genuine than it ever had to anyone. "What’s wrong?"

Even when Le An heard perhaps the first crumbs of gentleness from him, he recoiled in fear, unable to speak, his face twisting in pain as he shook his head.

While Taras stroked the mole, he slowly lifted his gaze from Le An’s lower lip and looked straight into his eyes. "Tell me. What’s wrong?"

At the same time, his hand caressed Le An’s hair once, twice, like soothing a child. Now, with Le An’s head caught between his two palms, it simply rested against Taras’s hand. Le An pressed his lips tightly together and shook his head again.

Taras’s lips parted and he let out a quiet sigh.

It was time to shatter the illusion that been the one to torturing Treasure.

Had he gone too far? Was it that painful for Le An?

So far that he was too afraid of learning the truth, to even ask?

"It wasn’t me who tried to kill you that night," Taras said.

At the same time, as Le An slowly grasped what he’d heard, a spark of astonishment lit up in his eyes. Astonishment, and... hope. Taras’s heart skipped. You fool...

"On the contrary, I saved you." Taras’s fingers lightly brushed Le An’s hair. "So stop trembling before me."