The silence between them was unbearable, stretching taut like a string about to snap. Kian's heart pounded in his chest, his body a storm of conflicting emotions. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to resist, to hold onto the autonomy he'd fought so hard for. But the heat was relentless, clouding his judgment and muddling his resolve.
Adrian stood close enough for Kian to feel the faint warmth radiating from his body, the Alpha's scent—dark and heady—settling over him like a shroud. Kian hated how his own biology betrayed him, how his body instinctively leaned toward the dominant presence in the room.
"I told you," Kian said through clenched teeth, his voice trembling but defiant. "I don't need your help."
Adrian's piercing gray eyes held his, unwavering and unreadable. "I don't recall offering help," he said, his tone calm, almost conversational.
Kian's stomach twisted. "Then what do you want?"
Adrian leaned against the counter, his posture deceptively relaxed, though the tension in his jaw suggested otherwise. "You're clearly unwell. Do you honestly believe you can manage this on your own right now?"
"I've done it before," Kian snapped, gripping the edge of the counter to steady himself. His legs felt like they might give out at any moment.
Adrian tilted his head, studying him like one might study a particularly stubborn puzzle. "You're in no condition to be at work. You should've stayed home."
Kian bristled at the thinly veiled chastisement. "I can't afford to miss a deadline just because of my… condition." He spat the word like it was poison. "And it's none of your business."
Adrian's lips curved into a faint smirk, though there was no humor in his eyes. "You work under me, Kian. That makes it my business."
The possessiveness in his tone sent a chill down Kian's spine. "I'm not some project for you to manage," Kian shot back, his voice rising despite the haze of his heat.
For a moment, Adrian said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then, to Kian's utter disbelief, he stepped even closer, invading the last shred of personal space Kian had left.
"You're right," Adrian said, his voice dropping an octave. "You're not a project. But you're also not leaving this room until you accept reality."
"And what reality is that?" Kian demanded, though his voice wavered.
"That you're not as in control as you like to think," Adrian said, his words striking a nerve.
Kian's breathing quickened, anger and humiliation warring within him. He hated how easily Adrian could strip away his defenses with just a few words. "I don't need you," he said, though the conviction in his voice faltered.
Adrian raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Don't you?"
The weight of the question hung in the air, and for a moment, Kian didn't know how to respond. His body betrayed him, leaning ever so slightly toward the Alpha's presence, drawn to the promise of relief even as his mind rebelled against the idea.
"I can handle this," Kian said finally, his voice quieter now, almost pleading.
Adrian's smirk softened into something else entirely—something almost predatory. "You're lying to yourself."
Before Kian could respond, a sharp pang ripped through his abdomen, stealing his breath. He clutched the counter for support, his knees buckling slightly.
Adrian's hand shot out, steadying him before he could collapse. The contact was electric, sending a jolt through Kian's already overwhelmed senses. "Enough," Adrian said firmly. "You're going to my office. Now."
"No," Kian protested weakly, though he lacked the strength to resist as Adrian guided him out of the break room and down the hall.
The short walk to Adrian's office felt like an eternity. Every step was a battle, Kian's body teetering on the edge of collapse. He was acutely aware of the stares from his colleagues, their curiosity and concern burning into his back.
By the time they reached Adrian's office, Kian was barely holding on. Adrian closed the door behind them, locking it with a quiet click. The sound was both reassuring and suffocating.
"Sit," Adrian commanded, gesturing to the plush leather chair in front of his desk.
Too exhausted to argue, Kian obeyed, sinking into the chair with a shuddering breath.
Adrian moved to his desk, leaning against the edge as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You've been avoiding suppressants, haven't you?"
Kian stiffened, his gaze snapping to Adrian's. "How do you—"
"You're an Omega in a corporate environment. You think I haven't noticed the signs?" Adrian's voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of something sharper beneath it. "You've been pushing yourself too hard, Kian. This was bound to happen."
Kian clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "Don't pretend like you care."
Adrian's expression darkened, his gray eyes narrowing. "You think I don't? If I didn't care, I wouldn't be wasting my time trying to keep you from collapsing in the middle of the office."
Kian looked away, his throat tightening. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to believe that Adrian's concern was anything more than professional obligation.
Adrian sighed, his tone softening. "Look, I'm not asking for your gratitude. But you need to face facts. You can't keep ignoring your biology like this."
Kian's jaw tightened. "I'm not some helpless Omega who needs an Alpha to swoop in and save him."
"I never said you were," Adrian said evenly. "But even the strongest Omegas have limits."
Kian's anger flared, hot and blinding. "And you think you know my limits? You think you have the right to tell me how to live my life?"
Adrian's smirk returned, though it was colder this time. "I don't think I have the right. I know I do. Because right now, you're a liability—to yourself and to this company."
The words hit like a slap, and Kian's anger fizzled into something colder: humiliation.
Adrian pushed off the desk, closing the distance between them. He leaned down, his face inches from Kian's, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "I don't care how much you hate me right now. But you will listen to me. Because if you don't, this heat will break you. And then you'll have no choice but to rely on someone. Is that what you want?"
Kian's breath hitched, his mind spinning. He wanted to scream, to shove Adrian away, to prove that he didn't need anyone. But the truth was undeniable: he couldn't do this alone. Not this time.
"What do you want from me?" Kian asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
Adrian straightened, his gaze unreadable. "What I want," he said, "is for you to let me help you. No strings attached. No games. Just help."
Kian stared at him, his mind racing. It felt like a trap, but what choice did he have?
"Fine," Kian said after a long moment. "But this doesn't mean I trust you."
Adrian's smirk returned, but there was no malice in it this time. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
And with that, the unspoken deal was struck.