The faint aroma of food pulls Ace from a restless sleep.
The sunlight streaming through the blinds is soft and warm, but his body feels anything but.
Every muscle aches, and his chest feels heavy, like something invisible is pressing down on him.
He sits up, his fingers brushing against his neck. The mark is still there, still warm, pulsing faintly beneath his skin.
A shiver runs through him as the sensation brings an unwelcome memory: the stranger's intense eyes, their touch, the undeniable pull that left him breathless.
"Get the fuck out of my head," he whispers hoarsely, dragging himself out of bed.
In the bathroom, Ace stares at his reflection. He's pale, with faint shadows under his eyes, his hair sticking out in every direction.
He splashes cold water on his face, but it does little to clear the fog clouding his mind.
The mark seems to glow faintly in the light, and his chest tightens as he runs a trembling hand over it. "What is happening to me?" he murmurs.
The pull from the stranger is stronger today. It's been growing steadily over the past week, an unrelenting force that refuses to leave him alone.
Even now, as he stands in the bathroom, he can almost feel their presence, like a ghost haunting his thoughts.
A knock at the door startles him.
"Babe? Breakfast is ready," Xiao Jun calls from the other side.
Ace takes a deep breath, forcing himself to push the thoughts aside. He can't let Jun see him like this—not when he's already caused so much worry. "Coming," he says, his voice steadier than he feels.
When he steps into the kitchen, Jun is standing by the stove, smiling warmly.
"I made your favorite," Jun says, gesturing to the table where a steaming plate of fried rice and dumplings waits.
"Thanks," Ace murmurs, sitting down.
Jun watches him for a moment, his smile faltering. "You okay? You've been… off lately. Babe, really, what is happening with you? Since your birthday, it's like you're someone else. Where is that cheerful boyfriend of mine? The clingy stubborn boyfriend.Ace, tell me , did I do something?"
Ace forces a small smile. "No, no, you didn't, and I'm fine. Just tired."
Xiao Jun doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't press further.
After breakfast, they head to the hotel—Jun's family hotel.
Ace had planned to work there part-time before starting college, and today marks his first official day on the job.
When they step out of Jun's car and walk into the lobby, Ace feels the familiar awe that comes with being in this grand space.
Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, their intricate designs casting soft, glittering light across the polished marble floors. The air is filled with the subtle yet distinct scent of jasmine, a signature touch of the hotel's Chinese heritage.
As they make their way through the lobby, Ace notices several staff members glance his way and smile warmly.
He's not a stranger here; most of the employees know him because of his connection to Jun and Mr. Wang.
Mr. Wang owns the hotel and is the primary figure running it, with Jun holding the second most authoritative position.
Jun leads him to the staff lounge, where the manager greets them with a warm smile. "Ah, Ace. Welcome to the team," the man says, shaking Ace's hand firmly. "Jun's told me all about your plans to work here before college. It's great to have you officially on board."
"Thanks," Ace says, managing a polite smile.
--
The day starts smoothly enough, but Ace's focus is constantly tugged elsewhere.
The stranger's presence is like a shadow, lingering just at the edge of his mind. The burning mark on his neck.
Ace fights through the day, forcing himself to stay busy, but it all unravels after lunch.
A staff member—a bellboy with a sarcastic grin—approaches him near the reception desk. "Hey, pretty boy," the man says, leaning against the counter. "Taking a break already? Must be nice having connections to get this job handed to you."
Ace stiffens. "I'm working."
"Sure you are," the man replies with a chuckle, loud enough for nearby staff to overhear. "Don't worry, though. If you mess something up, I'm sure your boyfriend or his dad won't say a thing."
Ace's hands curl into fists. The stranger's pull, the overwhelming pressure from his burning marks, and now this—it's too much.
"Back off," Ace says, his voice low.
The bellboy smirks. "Relax, I'm just kidding. Or are you too sensitive to handle a little teasing?"
Ace's vision blurs, his pulse pounding in his ears. Anger courses through him, sharp and uncontrollable.
Before he can process what's happening, his nails elongate into sharp claws, and he feels a painful pressure in his mouth as his canines extend into fangs.
His breathing becomes erratic. The room feels too small, the sounds too loud.
Without a word, Ace bolts from the reception desk, ignoring the startled looks from nearby staff.
He barely makes it to the restroom before locking the door behind him. Gripping the sink, he stares at his reflection in horror.
His claws dig into the porcelain, and his glowing golden eyes stare back at him. He looks… feral.
"No, no, no," he whispers, his voice trembling. "What's happening to me?"
As panic threatens to overwhelm him, an image flashes in his mind: the stranger's face.
The pull from the mark grows stronger, washing over him like a calming tide. Slowly, the glow in his eyes fades, his claws retract, and his canines return to normal.
Ace sinks to the floor, his body trembling. He sits there for several minutes, his breaths shaky and uneven, until he feels calm enough to stand.
Splashing water on his face, he forces himself to return to work, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
°
By the end of the week, Ace is barely holding himself together.
The pull has become unbearable, like a rope tightening around his heart. His dreams are filled with the stranger—glimpses of their eyes, their touch, and flashes of something darker, something primal.
In these dreams, he isn't himself. He's something else, something wild, with sharp claws and fur.
He wakes up gasping, drenched in sweat, the mark on his neck throbbing.
Jun notices the change. He tries to comfort Ace, but every touch, every kiss only makes it worse.
The mark burns hotter, and Ace feels like his body is fighting against him, rejecting the love Jun offers so freely.
One night, as they sit together on the couch, Jun leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Ace's temple.
"I love you," Jun whispers, his voice full of warmth.
Ace flinches.
Jun pulls back, hurt flashing across his face. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Ace says quickly, forcing a smile. "I'm just… tired."
Jun, frustrated, he walks away leaving him there.
That night, Ace lies awake, staring at the ceiling. The weight of guilt and confusion presses down on him, suffocating. He can't keep living like this. He needs answers.
The next morning, he begins his search.
He retraces his steps from that night, walking the streets where he first encountered the stranger. He asks questions, follows faint clues, but it's like chasing a shadow.
Days turn into nights, and Ace grows more desperate. He doesn't know what he'll do if he finds them—scream, cry, beg for answers—but he knows he needs to see them again.
Alongside answers, he needs the man, he to just see him again, he needs to at least feel his touch again , his body is burning with the desire of that man's touch.
And the pull in his chest is stronger than ever, a relentless force that refuses to let him go.